


Everything Is Illuminated

by Biblio (Heyerchick)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Relationship Study, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 19:24:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12966642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyerchick/pseuds/Biblio
Summary: Title: Everything Is IlluminatedAuthor: BiblioRating: RPairing: Jack and DanielCategory: Angst.  Drama.  Hurt/Comfort.  Relationship Study.  Romance.Date: 20 December 2008Season/Spoilers: Season 7.  From 'Fallout' onwards, events diverge.Synopsis: When Jack decides he wants Daniel more than he wants the Stargate, some bridges are burned and some bridges are built.Notes: This story was previously only available as one of my Biblio's Philes, and is published on the web for the first time here at A03.





	Everything Is Illuminated

Jack saw a series of glassy images emerge from black, then fade back into black before he could make out meaning or detail.  Fuzzy, frustrating images, more and more coming at him until they ran into one another.  Formed a moving picture. 

He was awake. 

Hurting. 

He became aware of a sweaty hand clenched around his, a bowed head resting awkwardly against the edge of the hospital bed gradually coming into focus.

Daniel.

Thank God.

Daniel was with him, holding onto his hand like he was anchoring him to life.

This intimacy, what it might mean, was too much for Jack to think about for now, although he'd been thinking about very little else for quite a while.  Daniel was here with him and that part of it was good.

His knee was iced, elevated and bandaged, hurting so much he felt sick.  Or was that from the spike he appeared to have driven through his head?

His head.

Jesus.

He got shot in the head.

He reached out uncertainly to rest his hand in Daniel's tousled hair, which somehow always reminded him of autumn. 

"Jack!"  Daniel jerked upright at the touch, his face pinched and grey.

"I'm sorry," Jack said.

"I could've killed you!" Daniel burst out.  "I thought I had."

Jack cringed at the lingering horror in Daniel's soft voice and the devastated eyes fixed so intensely on his.  He grabbed at Daniel's trembling hand before he could move it and held on tight.

"Oh, God, I really thought…" Daniel choked with emotion.  "I thought…before I got to you!"

"Listen to me," Jack said. 

He remembered.  With Carter and Teal’c flanking either side of the gate, he'd needed to move and move fast, heading for the back side of the DHD while Daniel laid down covering fire.

"It was my fault.  I blew out my knee." 

He was supposed to go straight up the middle, he was running, but he lurched right, staggering drunkenly as his leg tore, gave way under him. 

It was tight, too damned tight, close quarters, he wasn't going to make it and he tried to roll. 

Shit-scared. 

Then his head exploded. 

Then nothing.

Here.

Jack reached up an unsteady hand to find a neat dressing over the furrowing pain across his temple. 

"Crap.  I bet that leaves a scar," he said, deadpan.

Daniel's head snapped back in shock.  "I almost killed you, you stupid sonovabitch!" he said, shuddering with reaction.  Convulsively, he buried his face again.

"Don't cry, Daniel.  Please." 

Jack clumsily patted his hair, unable to think of anything to do or say to comfort this wracking grief. 

"Please." 

Daniel needed him but he hurt, his eyes were leaden and he slept.

 

 

Jack blinked madly as the world bitched about swimming into something resembling focus. 

"Daniel?"

A comforting weight had been lifted and everything hurt more. 

Pressure on his fingers made him look around groggily to find Daniel out like a light in the Infirmary's least comfortable chair.  He was holding Jack's hand, though.  Still here, still holding on.

Didn't they do the guilt-trip already? Jack thought fuzzily. 

Daniel had to know by now all Jack had was a trick knee and a scratch on his head.

Sure, it could've been bad. 

Jack could've been dead. 

He wasn't, though, and Daniel Jackson never had done the self-pity thing.  Jack had been around when Daniel had picked himself up from worse, way worse than this was, and moved on. 

Daniel was still here, though.  He was in the chair, and Jack was more or less okay, so he had to want to be here.  To be right here.

Daniel needed to know Jack was okay.

Confusing, how good this felt.

There was too much that was good, too much that Jack felt and it was too easy, second nature, so Jack blustered and bitched and pushed Daniel away. 

Again and again and again, Jack would wish it was only about sex.  Pray for it.  Itches like that, he could scratch.  He could almost convince himself of that.  Exercise and stress-relief.  Uncomplicated, easy, almost guilt-free. 

But this was Daniel, everything got intense, it got tangled, and sex could only be the smallest part of what they had together, so Jack would want and want, panic and push him away. 

Tried, anyway.  

Daniel wanted to be near and near he stayed, the two of them circling, always connected, always pushing at the limits of what they did to each other; sometimes, maybe even aware of where this was taking them.  Maybe Daniel never consciously framed the thought but Jack knew the thought was there.  They were too aware.  It was blistering and challenging.  They were tempted, wanting and never going there.

Circling.

Now Jack was tired and hurting and still Daniel wanted to be near.

How long could they go on, not admitting anything that was between them? 

How long could Jack? 

His knee gave out and he got hurt more and more.  He was slowing down. 

His luck would hold, it always did.  

He had to ask himself, though. 

If it had been Daniel running, or Carter, exposed and waiting for him, needing him to be there? 

How slow did he have to get before he got one of them killed?

 

 

The next time Jack opened his eyes, Daniel was gone and General Hammond was at the foot of his bed.

"Did you have Teal'c carry him out?" Jack said, pissed at the empty chair and his inability to control his disappointment.

"I believe he and Major Carter lured Dr. Jackson away with promises of freshly brewed coffee."

"Coffee?"

"They bought it as a treat for him."

"Coffee?"

"Apparently the most expensive coffee in the world.  It's excreted by the Paradoxurus hermaphroditus civet of Sumatra," Hammond said.

"Civet poop coffee?"

"Would you feel better if it was a Caffè Mocha from Starbucks?" the general said with a marked lack of sympathy.

Coffee!  Even in his debilitated state, Jack knew when someone was messing with his mind.

"Dr. Fraiser informs me we're looking at a twenty-week rehabilitation programme here." Hammond nodded soberly down at Jack's knee.

"I haven't seen her majesty," Jack said.  Why did people keep coming to see him when he wasn't awake?

"She'll be relieved to know you weren't just pretending to sleep.  As will Major Carter and Teal'c."

"How long was I out?" 

He and Daniel hadn't exactly got into specifics, there.

"Approximately eighteen hours, and you've been drifting in and out of consciousness for two days."

"That would be the concussion."  Jack pouted up at his dripped-dry drip.

"You've always been very vocal in your dislike of pain medication."  Hammond's eyes gleamed.

"Not when I'm hurt."

"This was a close call, Jack."

"Tell me about it."

"As an 0-6, you've done well to stay out in the field this long."

"Time to consider my options, eh?" Jack said, because he still had his dignity and he didn't need his C.O. to tell him he was getting to the point where he had to piss or get off the pot.  Thinking about what would have happened if he'd gone down like that in front of Carter's P-90, he was maybe there already.

Hammond seemed surprised Jack wasn't arguing.

"I don't think I owe anyone," Jack said, coming slowly to realisation.  "Not even myself."

"No," Hammond said.  "You have nothing to prove in the field."  Bless the man, he actually sounded quite proud.

So.

What were Jack's options? 

His body would give up on him before his team did and there was Daniel, who wouldn't give up on him at all, ever.  Daniel and all this awareness and wanting they weren't supposed to have or know.

"Hell, it's not like I've never retired before," Jack said.

Hammond looked at him sharply, then he smiled and advised Jack kindly to rest.

As he went out, Doctor Fraiser came in.

"I presume the general told you the prognosis?" she said as she flipped through Jack's chart.

"He didn't mention if I was actually going to get back full mobility."

"I'm confident you will.  This time," Fraiser said, frowning at him.  "I don't need to tell you that after this latest incident, I have to categorise your 'little ACL problem' as chronic.  I'm recommending you wear a knee brace and undergo a rigorous programme of physical therapy.  With your age and your continued activities in the field, the joint instability is a concern." 

"Bottom line?" Jack said, not about to get into a discussion about his age when she was already kicking his ass for infirmity.

Fraiser shot him her long-suffering, why-do-patients-always-ask-me-that look. 

"Arthroscopy is not an option I want to explore, not with your history," she said.  "A torn ACL doesn't heal well, physical rehabilitation can take up to a year, and your knee would never function as it did before surgery.  There are techniques suitable for a patient your age, such as healing-response, which surgically induces a clot to provide an enriched environment for potential tissue healing, but even those won't guarantee full restoration of joint function.  There would be an impact on your ability to perform daily activities, let alone…"  She shrugged and let him do the math.

"My career would be over anyway."  Jack guessed he knew the answer to this but he asked anyway.  "What's your advice?"

"Medically speaking?" Fraiser said.  "You've had three knee operations, Colonel.  I've treated you a number of times for recurring pain, swelling and stiffness.  Even with physical therapy and bracing, the stability of the joint is deteriorating.  We may be looking at collateral damage to the cartilage with the next injury and I'd say at this point arthritis is a near-certainty."

It was about what he expected but it didn't make it any easier for him to hear.  Pain but no gain, huh?

"I won't clear you to return to the field until you've completed the rehab programme," Fraiser said.  "And not at all unless I'm confident full mobility is restored."

Confident.  The Doc seemed to be saying that a lot, which meant she was anything but.

Jack was sometimes a fool, but even he could see the writing on this wall.

 

 

Retirement.

Not such a joke, huh?

Jack had tried it when he lost his son and was ready to eat his gun. 

Then he took a year when Sara left him and wound up on his roof, staring out at the stars, thinking from time to time about Daniel Jackson and the extraordinary new life he'd found on Abydos.  He thought about Daniel every night he spent on his roof, which was...okay, it was every night.  For a year.

He thought about retiring when he lost Daniel on Oannes.  Well, he wasn't thinking as such.  He wasn't that rational.  Daniel was gone, and Jack was gone too.  He couldn't go on, not without Daniel.  What was the point?

Jack still wondered about that, about the point.  He didn't spend a lot of time looking inward, but he needed SG-1.  Hammond kept them clear of the politics as best he could and some days, Jack made a difference.  Some days, he won.  It was never going to make up for the damned distasteful things he'd done, but those good days, when Daniel…

Daniel. 

Oy.

Impatiently, Jack scrubbed his eyes, then punched some comfort into his pillow.  He lay back down.  He hated the lumpy bed and the bruise on his butt and the heat and the chill.  He hated his knee.  He hated coffee.  He hated Daniel hadn't come back when he was awake.  He pulled the hot, annoying pillow over his face.  Then he threw it across the room.  A clatter reminded him he hated that stupid crutch, too.

He was going round and round in circles and everything, all the time, was about Daniel.

What did he want, for cryin' out loud?

He guessed he knew the answer to this one too. 

He wanted everything he wasn't getting. 

Daniel and him, they couldn't be friends this long, they couldn't be this intense and wrapped up in each other and not have a clue what that they wanted.  There were days when they looked, days when for Jack, looking wasn't enough.  More of those days than before.

What he wanted was Daniel. 

His friend, this infuriating, challenging man he loved, he wanted in bed with him.  He wanted to look, he wanted to touch.  It was not and had never been, not even at the start, about sex.  He wanted to make love with Daniel.  He wanted all of Daniel, everything he was, everything he had to offer.  Every day, Jack wanted it more. 

At the core, Daniel knew it too.  He hid from it just like Jack did, and they never let themselves go there.

What was Jack supposed to do?

Option #1. 

He went on doing what he loved, which meant he had to go on being the good little Air Force drone, i.e., pissy, miserable and alone, until he crippled himself, or he got someone he cared about killed, and likely never got to be with Daniel.

Option #2. 

Daniel.  TV, fishing, talking, fighting, sports, never being bored.  Life with Daniel.  Sex with Daniel.  Naked, sweaty, breathy, moaning Daniel, wrapped around him, moving on him, clenched hard around his cock, ecstatic and wanting more.

That. 

Jack wanted that.  Jack could do that.  He could love Daniel. 

He was already there.

 

 

Daniel had been ordered to rest at least half a dozen times by Fraiser, and then twice by General Hammond.  In person.  They hadn't budged him until he was told it was actually Jack who needed rest, and his anxious omnipresence was impeding the impatient patient's progress.  If Daniel hadn't been as punchy and exhausted as everyone thought he was, he would not have fallen for what passed for logic among the base medical staff.  And, if Daniel wasn't so upset about Jack, he probably wouldn't have tried to quiet his mind a bit by substituting work for sleep.

Jack propped himself and his crutch against the doorway to Daniel's lab and did some coveting.  Fraiser wasn't supposed to sign him out of the Infirmary until the am, but it was late, and like just about everyone else, the Doc was safely out of Jack's way.

For once, Daniel wasn't reading or slaving over a hot translation.  He gently held a small glass object in his practiced, sensitive, latex-gloved hands.  The thing was a washed-out shade of blue, and strangely lumpy, but every way Daniel turned it, it caught the light and made a rainbow dance and quiver.  The colours sang in the air, an endless ripple of radiant light and shade.  Daniel looked through them, though, seeing something else entirely.

Jack could only hope it was him.  He watched the colours playing over Daniel's face, the way his eyes lit to turquoise.  So much feeling there.  He found himself limping forward an unsteady, responsive step, unable to resist the compulsion that had brought him here. 

He'd reached a decision and right or wrong, he needed to act. 

Time to think was time to doubt and there was no room for that. 

Jack was burning bridges.

"Hey," he said.

Daniel started violently at the sound of Jack's voice and swung around to face him, the colours dancing over his desk hanging there for a moment, then falling into nothing as he quickly put the object down.  His shock gave way to a dark scowl as he took in the crutch and Jack's painful, halting steps.  "Are you out of your mind?"  He jumped up from his chair and stormed over to Jack.  "What the hell are you doing up and walking on that leg?"

"I wanted someone to talk to," Jack said, quite amused to find himself manhandled, with exaggerated care, into the chair Daniel had just vacated. 

Daniel darted over to the nearest bookshelf, grabbed an armful of his precious books at random, put the pile down roughly stacked on the floor, then carefully lifted Jack's foot to rest on top of it. 

"Someone's been brainwashed by Doc Fraiser."

"What do you mean, you wanted someone to talk to?" Daniel said as he stood up.  "You should be resting."

"You only come around when I'm sleeping, Carter hasn't been in at all..."

"She's been in about a dozen times to watch you snore and for your information, she was so worried, she slept on base the last two nights."  Daniel hitched his butt up on the corner of his desk, glaring and practically daring Jack to bring up Teal'c.

"I'm starting to think Fraiser slipped me a mickey," Jack complained.

"It's the concussion," Daniel said, glancing guiltily at the dressing on Jack's temple.  "How's the, uh?"  He pointed a vaguely questioning finger in the general direction of Jack's noggin.

"Hurts like crap."

"So you can hardly walk and you have a blinding headache, and yet, you're here?" Daniel marvelled.

"I scared the shit out of you," Jack said. "For which I'm truly sorry."

Daniel's bravado crumbled so fast he frightened Jack and he slumped, his eyes filled with pain.

"It won't happen again.  I can promise you that," Jack said.

"How?" Daniel couldn't hide his bitterness.  "It's the risk we all take every time we go through the Stargate.  You told me yourself there were no guarantees.  No more promises, Jack, remember?"

Jack did say that.  He'd had to say something.  He'd found Sha'uri for Daniel, just as he'd promised he would, and finding her had killed her and most of Daniel's dreams.  Still..."I can promise you this."

"Jack."

"I won't be going through the gate again." 

There.  It was out.  He'd said it. 

Daniel looked stricken.  "Your knee?"

"Kind of.  Partly." 

What was he saying? 

"No." 

That wasn't right either. 

"Maybe."

"What?" Daniel was too confused for niceties.

"I'm retiring!" Jack said, goaded by his much-practiced, jealously hoarded inability to communicate.

Daniel just stared at him, stunned into a silence that lasted a full minute or more. 

Uncomfortable, awkward, crowded silence.  Like an anvil dropping.  Or something.  Jack stared back at Daniel, then past him.  Or through him, maybe.  He couldn’t actually see Daniel, while the pits and scars in the concrete wall behind were in sharp focus.

"What?" Daniel whispered.

"Retiring." 

It was the right thing to do and realistically, maybe the only thing he could do, but Jack still felt as if he had a bowling ball lodged in his gut.  He was cold and already starting to feel lost and he absolutely hated it. 

He could see Daniel was devastated and as usual, ten steps ahead of him in taking the blame. 

Jack began to struggle back to his feet, smiling wryly as Daniel recovered enough to rush to him, take hold of him around the waist and pull him up, taking all Jack's weight.  His heedless strength gave Jack a shivering, horribly inconvenient pang of desire.

"You're leaving me?  You're leaving us?  Why?" Daniel demanded.  "Why would you do that?"

"I think you know why."  Jack was horrified to find he was more afraid holding Daniel than he'd ever been afraid for him.  His pounding head was swimming and he felt like he was having a heart attack, clammy sweat standing out on his brow.   "You said 'me'," he snapped, showing his strain.  "Leaving 'me'."

Startled, Daniel blinked at him, recovered too quickly and launched into some bullshit about we, about us, the team.

"You said 'me'," Jack cut in on him. "You meant 'me' and you know it.  You know why." 

He could see at once this wasn't working. 

Daniel was stubborn and scared for him and not about to lose him; he didn't know anything but that.

"Shit!" Jack growled as he flung his arms around Daniel's shoulders and hauled him up close.  He was shaking and greedy and he meant to drive home his point, then all he could do was stare.  Stare and stare and struggle for words.  He wanted Daniel so much, some of it had to show. 

All of it showed.

It punched into Daniel, left him gasping, falling away from Jack, who grabbed on to him, hauled him back and close.  Wrestling Daniel's shocked rigidity, Jack would have given the world to kiss him, to make sure of him, but there were cameras.  Always cameras.  The man he was, he couldn't forget that, but he couldn't let go, not when everything he wanted was finally within reach. 

Jack's cheek brushed Daniel's, then into his hair as he burrowed in, their bodies crushed, leaving Daniel no choice, no place to go but him.  Daniel's wrists were braced against Jack's shoulders, hands fisted and resistant. 

"I love you," Jack said.

Daniel shied away from the words, from Jack's shocking arousal, from his own realisations, but couldn't break away, not when he had to fight himself as hard as he was fighting Jack.

Jack gave no quarter as Daniel exhausted himself, the man's fundamental honesty asserting to beat down his resistance.  In the end he quieted, he put his arms around Jack, buried his face with a sigh.  Regret, relief. 

Jack loved him. 

He was done.

It was so right.  Everywhere they touched they fit.  It was right.  They were good.  That was all.

A sudden burst of raucous, laughing voices made them wrench apart, Jack jarring his knee and swearing his head off.  Despite Daniel's help, he dropped heavily into the chair, angrily dashing away a few sharp tears of pain.

"God!"  Jack held his knee in both hands, glaring down as he tried to pull himself together. 

When he looked up, Daniel was on his knees in front of him, pale and anxious.  Stunned into another silence.  His eyes were huge and uncertain.  He coloured painfully when Jack softly stroked his cheek, staring hungrily down at him.

Daniel had to look away.  But slowly, slowly he reached up, reached out to Jack, his fingers gentle over Jack's cradling hand.

It was hardly a less compromising position to be caught in than kissing, but Jack figured he was done now, so screw 'em.  How often did Daniel have the confidence to reach out like this?  How often did he want to?  He dropped his hand to Daniel's shoulder, warm against his neck, smiling affectionately when that slow hand followed to curl around his bicep.

"You knew I wanted you," he said.

"Sometimes."  Daniel still could not meet Jack's eyes.  "There was so much intensity there.  You, you would act as if you owned me, as if you grudged every minute I wasted on anyone or anything else."

"Just so we're clear."  Jack coughed.  "When I say want," he began.

Daniel withdrew his hand and sank back down on his haunches, glaring up at him.  "I grasp that you want to have sex with me," he said, visibly offended.

"I mean I want a relationship. Of which sex will be a part."  Jack grinned.  "Have you been thinking about us a lot?"

"There was something there, Jack, okay?" Daniel sighed.  "I'm not totally oblivious."

"More, recently, I think," Jack said. 

So much more for them to talk about, for Jack to know.  He knew all the ways ascension had changed Daniel, how his choice to return had centred him, but he was greedy, he wanted to hear it.  He wanted Daniel to open up, to give something of himself to him. 

"More," he said again, with quiet satisfaction.

Daniel nodded a trifle reluctantly.

"That's hurting my knee just looking at you, you know," Jack complained.

"Ligament envy?  That's so you."

"I never made you uncomfortable or anything?" Jack asked, not quite meeting Daniel's eyes.  "I wasn't obviously lusting, was I?"  Not obviously.

Visibly confused, Daniel had to think about this.  Jack was just letting himself off the hook when Daniel's eyes widened in sudden recognition, then narrowed, aggrieved.

"We're in a crisis situation," Daniel said.

"Yes?"

"Cassandra's life is on the line."

"Yes?"

"I walk into the briefing room ready to impart vital information."

"Yes?"

"You get pissed because I don't take the time to say hello to you."

"Ah."  Reflectively, Jack buffed his nails on the sleeve of his jacket.  He embarrassed himself, he really did.  "Obvious, eh?"

"I love you, Jack.  I thought that had been obvious for years."  Daniel looked steadily up at him.  "I thought that was what the problem was between us.  That my affection, my friendship, made you uncomfortable."

"Wanting to have sex with you made me uncomfortable but I don't recall that being your fault."

"That's strange.  I do."

Jack winced.

"Sexual relations with my best friend was never a scenario I realistically expected to have to deal with," Daniel said.

"Circling," Jack said.  "That's how I see us.  Wanting it but never letting ourselves go there."

"You've never fantasised?" Daniel asked, curiosity getting the better of him.  It always did.  Then his brain caught up with his motor mouth and he wanted to bite the words back.

"I'm trying not to embarrass you here." 

He looked at Daniel, thinking they were still circling, that it was going to take something more for them to give in. 

"I just admitted I love you, you just admitted you love me.  I want you,” he said.  “All the cards out on the table.  Why are we both acting like we do this every day?"

"Shock, possibly?" Daniel suggested, frowning heavily.  "Or maybe because it just doesn't seem real.  I can't imagine the team without you, Jack."  He didn't want to.  "It's not possible."

"It's real."

"It doesn't feel…"

"It's real."

"Jack!"

"Look at me.  Look." 

Jack took hold of his braced knee. "You know how close I came.  I don't need to tell you.  How close will I come the next time?  Or you?  Teal'c?  Carter?  I'm slowing down, Daniel," he said.  "I can't take it any more.  My…body."  Failing him.

Jeez, this was tougher than he thought.  Not having anything to prove still felt to him like giving up. 

"I get hurt more and more and it takes longer and longer for me to heal.  My knee is giving out on me.  Doc Fraiser isn't sure I'll make it back from this injury and she knows I won't make it back from the next." 

Daniel wasn't saying anything, Daniel was wearing his listening face, intense, sweet, trying to work out what to say, how to help, but suddenly Jack was angry and snatching at him. 

"I have some dignity!" he snapped.

"It may be the wrong thing to say, I don't know," Daniel said.  "But we need you, Jack.  I doubt we can do this without you."

"Ah, Daniel, that's not true. How many times have you left the team behind to get done what you needed to do?"

Daniel jerked back at that, his mouth falling open.

"Teal'c is Teal'c, and most days, Carter thinks she can do a better job than I do."

"That's not fair!" Daniel said.

"No."  Jack's grin was twisted.  "But it’s true."

"I need you!" Daniel said, surging up again to glare at Jack.

"I know," Jack said.  "Me too."

"You're leaving for me!" Daniel was finally taking it in.

"Didn't I say?" Jack gently brushed Daniel's cheek.  "I could maybe make it back into the field.  Maybe.  This time.  I don't care to try.  The truth, Daniel?" 

Jack watched Daniel struggle with all of this, hard truths hitting him like hammer blows. 

"I don't want it more than I want you."

Looking as worn as Jack felt, Daniel sank down, biting his lip.  "I do love you, Jack, but I don't know what to do about this."

"Be with me."

"Jack."  Daniel sighed.  "What if I…"  He couldn't articulate the thought.  "You can't walk away from me.  You can't."

"Be with me."

Jack had everything to lose.  Of course he was going to fight.

"I don't like ultimatums!" Daniel said.

"You could look at it that way," Jack said.  "Or as a simple statement of fact." 

He started to lever himself to his feet and had to grin when Daniel got up to help him. 

"You're much more fun to hang onto than the crutch."

Somewhat coldly, Daniel handed him his crutch.

"I'm not trying to railroad you into bed with me," Jack claimed, despite all evidence to the contrary.  "And speaking of bed, I ache like crap, so I need you to get me back to my quarters, undress me and tuck me in."

"You're outrageous."  Daniel suffered Jack to put his arm around him, too rattled to come up with anything by way of retaliation.  He didn't even threaten to sic Fraiser on Jack as he helped him navigate the numerous historic hazards in his lab before steering him out into the hallway.  Too busy thinking.

"When I said you can't walk away from me, Jack, I meant it," he said.  "It freaks you out if you're not the absolute centre of my known universe."

"Ah, just think of the fun we'll have.  You romping around the galaxy saving the world, me at home, watching sports, eating bonbons and obsessing about it."

"It won't work." Daniel grunted as Jack leaned a trifle more.  "I'm not convinced you need me more than you need SG-1."

"The first time I make love to you should be all the proof you need," Jack said.  It was fun to be having this highly improper conversation right here in the hallway.  Oddly freeing.  "I'm thinking about jumping your bones right now, you know."  He waved to the security camera ahead.  "Talk about going out with a bang."

Gritting his teeth, Daniel hoisted him into the waiting elevator.

"You've gone all red," Jack said.

"Aggravation," Daniel said as Jack refused to be peeled off.  "I feel like smacking you with your crutch."

Jack leaned in.  "You feel good," he whispered.  Daniel did.  He was tall and strong, perfectly slim and firm all over.  Exotically, frighteningly good.  "I'm really thinking about us," Jack said with a meaningful look.  "Together."

They both kinda froze then and looked up at the camera in the corner.  Jack shut his yap, feeling a wee bit guilty as Daniel practically carried him down the hallway to his assigned quarters.  He was limping terribly and Daniel was plainly worrying.

"Do you have anything you can take?  Did Janet prescribe pain meds for you?" Daniel asked as soon as he got Jack into the dark little room, concrete-bleak despite the stereo and other personal touches.

Jack nodded and sank gratefully down onto the bed, rifled in his pocket and produced a bottle of pills.  Daniel went over to the sink to fetch him some water, hunkering down to watch him anxiously as he swallowed one of the Tylenol.

"I need a hug," Jack said.

"Bite me."

"Stay."  Jack caught Daniel's wrist before he could make good his escape.  "Stay here with me."

"I shouldn't have to tell you what a bad idea that is."

"I don't care."

"I do."

"We haven't decided anything."

"I can't make a decision!" Daniel's voice shook.  "A few days ago I almost killed you and now…This is too much.  You want everything, Jack."

"I want you."

Daniel didn't have an answer for him.

 

 

In the end, as if being trapped in the wheelchair, evidence of the Wrath of Fraiser, wasn't disadvantage enough, Jack and the general both spoke at the same time.  The verbal misfire jarred Jack more than it should have, leaving him with a feeling akin to being night-blind.  Sure of his limits and his latitude, he'd always been able to read and handle Hammond.  Always.

"General!  This is hard enough!"

Hammond sat back in his chair, surprised at Jack's vehemence.

Promotion, for chrissake! Jack thought bitterly.  What in hell would he do with a star on his shoulder?  It would bury him alive in concrete and push Daniel that much further from him and that was all.

It was because he was scared to say it that he did. 

"I'm retiring."

"It may feel that way, son."  Hammond was quickly recovering his composure.  "But I can assure you command of this facility has its own challenges and rewards as great as any you've found leading a team in the field."

So much for all the cards being on the table.  A hand had been dealt, not one Jack had ever expected to call. 

He couldn't begin to imagine the markers the general must have called in to make it possible.  After commanding the base just fine for seven years, suddenly he couldn't go another day without a duly appointed second-in-command?  An Executive Officer who'd be groomed to command the SGC when Hammond finally did take up the retirement he'd been putting off for those seven years.

"I didn't think it was possible for me to feel worse than I did when I was wheeled in here," Jack said.  "I mean retiring as in resigning my commission and leaving the Air Force, General."

"So you implied in the Infirmary," Hammond said.  "In the heat of the moment, after being wounded in the most difficult of circumstances."

"I have good and sufficient reason to retire," Jack said.  "Personal reasons," he added with grim emphasis.

Hammond leaned forward, clasping his hands together before him, a knowing, almost sympathetic expression on his face. 

"You think you're the only officer who's been here, Jack?  Who's realised he's slowing down and that all his years of experience combined don't make his age less of a liability in combat to the team he's led?  Where in hell do you think generals come from, son?"

"I can't do it," Jack said. 

He was hurting all over, the miserable knot in his gut most of all.  

He loved Daniel.  He was sure of the feeling, sure of the man, but not sure enough of himself to be able to tell it to someone whose good opinion mattered to him. 

It would've been so much easier if this was only about sex. 

He already knew Hammond would pragmatically, conveniently 'believe' a lie.  The general had offered Jack such an out when he thought he'd gotten too close to Carter.

Jack could lie now, fall back on the limited protection of 'don't ask, don't tell' and trust to George Hammond to quietly looking the other way so long as he was discreet and he did the job expected of him. 

The general would never compromise Jack, not willingly.  He was a good and decent man who placed a high value on Jack, high enough for him to be willing to compromise himself.  It wouldn't be pretty but it could be done.  All Jack had to do was abdicate responsibility and what little was left of his long-eroded sense of honour. 

Just that, and deny being in love with Daniel Jackson.

The service and his career, privileged as he was, could survive him being queer for Daniel, but not loving him.

"I can't," he said again, his voice a bare thread.  He was close to losing control, again, over Daniel.  Again.

He couldn't stand Hammond's look of friendship, of compassion.  He sat in shamed, bitter silence while the general tried in vain to reach him, to help him, suffocating him with this unanticipated, unwanted generosity. 

All Jack had to do was tell the truth about why he wanted out of the Air Force and it was done.  He was done.

He couldn't say a word.

Wanted Daniel more than he wanted all this?  Sure he did.  Wanted him enough to be sitting here in the general's office crapping himself, but not enough to admit to it.

It was not wrong to love Daniel.  It was who Jack was.

"I have no choice."  Harsh, his tone was harsh and much too high, but he stumbled on.  "I have…my feelings…"

Suddenly, Hammond looked old.  He seemed to carry all his years and his weight and looked to Jack an old, fat man.  "Major Carter," he said, indescribably weary and culpable.

Jack couldn't stand that look on the old man's face.  Hammond didn't have an inkling of the unbelievable truth.  He didn't have any guilt to carry for this.  Jack wanted to end this clean.  It felt clean to him.  Hammond had to be shown this. 

"Daniel," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm in love with him."

Hammond's face went slack with shock.

"Nothing happened!" Jack said.  "I never…" 

The general was completely silenced.  He stared at Jack and Jack stared back at him, hopelessly exposed, the awful silence stretching out.

"You can't be serious," Hammond said at last.  "Colonel...  Jack, you cannot possibly expect me to believe you have feelings, sexual feelings for Dr. Jackson.  Not you.  There must be something else going on here."

"The only thing going on here is that I love Daniel and I want to be with him.  I can't do that and stay in the Air Force."

"But..." Hammond couldn't begin to swallow his incredulity.  "Dr. Jackson?"

"You having a harder time with me loving a man, or with me loving Daniel?" Jack said, feeling ill, all too aware he'd cornered himself here.

"It goes against everything we believe in!"  Hammond was a good man, but he was an old-fashioned, committed family man as well as career military.  He hated what he was being made to face, he hated everything about it.  However highly he valued Jack, and he assuredly did, this was the one transgression he couldn't swallow.  He couldn't see a place for a man like Jack, not now, not in the military.

"I'm well aware of the regulations, General.  That's why I'm resigning," Jack said.

"How does Dr. Jackson feel?  Is he aware of your...intentions...towards him?"

"He is now."

"Are your feelings...reciprocated?"  Good and fair man that he was, Hammond was struggling distastefully with the connotations of what he was hearing from Jack, what he was having to say to him. 

"I can't answer for Daniel, and I doubt it's appropriate for you to ask him.  He is a civilian."

"Has anything happened between you two?  Anything of a…a sexual nature?" Hammond said, just this side of contempt. 

 

"I appreciate you ask out of concern for Daniel, General," Jack said.  "But even if it had, I wouldn't incriminate myself to you or compromise him.  I can only tell you that I'm retiring to pursue a relationship with him." 

"You're prepared to give up all this for the mere chance to be with Dr. Jackson?  No guarantees at all?”  Hammond shook his head in disbelief.  Jack was supposed to be a better tactician, a better everything than that.  “Can you honestly tell me it's worth it, Colonel?  Giving up SG-1, the Stargate, everything you've built in your career, promotion, command, the respect of your peers?"

"The Uniform Code of Military Justice gives me no choice.  I can't love Daniel and wear the uniform.  I can't be ashamed for loving him and I can't shame him to cover my own ass.  I think you know that, Sir."

"And I think you know this has to be the last thing I ever expected to hear from you, Jack!" Hammond said.  "I can hardly believe what you're telling me.  I can't believe you won't come to your senses, see the impossibility of this and reconsider."

"How could I possibly?" Jack said.  "After this?  It's not some damn hormonal phase we're talking about.  It's not a…not a buddy fuck where the Air Force could conveniently look the other way.  It's my life.  And with respect, Sir, whether you believe it or not, I can't ignore it, not any more.  I can't make it go away."

Really struggling now, Hammond dismissed Jack, only wanting to get him out of his sight.  "I need time to consider your request and respond appropriately."  It seemed to take all his long years of exercising control to say even this much after the hit he'd just taken. 

There would be a time to talk this out, to explain, but this was not it. 

Hammond was going to have to live with the worst interpretation his own prejudices and protectiveness towards Daniel put on this until he remembered who Jack was.

Jack could only ride out the lash of this first, galling reaction until Teal'c arrived to wheel him back to his quarters.  It occurred to him then that shattering General Hammond really was only the start of it. 

 

The formalities of Jack's sensational retirement somehow went under the base radar. 

He signed, sealed and delivered his resignation letter by way of a harried, passing Harriman, took the Playstation and the stereo from his quarters, the old cigar box, holding all the evidence there was that Jack O'Neill was once a father and a husband, from his locker.  He left the base without talking to anyone, ambled home, climbed into a cold beer and a Tylenol.

He couldn't run far, or fast, or for long.  This was only a tactical withdrawal, if not to safe ground, then at least to the territory he now occupied, the space his world had shrunk to. 

Cracking a second beer, he limped outside to slump in the dusky heat, king of his castle, thinking foggily about house and yard, how he'd been here and done that, how he could get Daniel here.  He thought Daniel would fill the place, then couldn't imagine it.  Daniel ever being comfortable enough to fit.

He knew they'd be coming, half-knew Daniel would be with them, but was not ready for them when they walked into his yard.  He was never going to be ready for this. 

Carter called out to him as soon as she had him in sight.  "Sir?  Colonel O'Neill, what's going on?"

Jeans filled the blur beyond Jack's beer bottle, jeans and boots and heels.  Jack shrugged lazily, took another slug from his dwindling beer.

"Sir, it's all over the base that General Hammond offered you promotion," Carter said.  "And that you've refused.  Want to resign."  She was incredulous.

That was getting old.

"I do not understand," Teal'c said.  "Do you truly intend to decline a place of honour and influence among the warriors of this world?"

"The base fill you in on my reason for retiring?"  Jack slunk to his feet, in search of more beer and less conversation. 

The reason said nothing. 

If Daniel was here because he loved Jack despite everything, he was also ready to run interference, to keep Jack in line because he knew what Jack had to say, how hard it would be for him to say it, and how easy it would be to take it out on everyone else.

"You're not denying it!" Carter was unable to hide her shock.

As Carter and Teal'c double-teamed, took up position on the couch, Daniel backed up against the fireplace.  Taking the high ground. 

His particular demon of mess-with-you-mischief kicking in, Jack walked right up to Daniel.  Blandly ignoring the angry, desperately embarrassed defensiveness being drilled back at him, he straightened Daniel's always-crooked glasses as if he took this liberty every day.  Took his time about it too.

The fond little intimacy might have escaped scrutiny, but Daniel's scalded-cat reaction was way out of proportion to the offence.

Teal'c growled his customary warning at Jack's button pushing, Carter frowned over it, and Jack took pity on Daniel.  Some pity, anyways.  "Let me get you a beer." 

When he came back from the kitchen, he found Daniel taking refuge on the couch with Teal'c, while Carter had moved to the chair nearest the fireplace.  Jack handed out beers and snacks, then got himself comfortable in the exposed position allotted him in the remaining chair.

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Presumably Carter was lead interrogator.

She was free as a bird.  Jack was out of uniform in every way that counted.

"I understand that the prognosis for your knee injury is not good," she said. "That it won't be possible for you to go back in the field."

"There are other ways to serve," Teal'c said.

"Like accepting the general's offer," Carter said.  "A chance to lead the SGC, influence policy and mission deployment."

"We all know you hate the paperwork and the politics, Jack."  Daniel probably thought that wince on his face was a smile.  "But doesn't the good you can do outweigh the, uh, the evil?"

"Nope."

"Jack!" Daniel came up glaring.

"Oh, come on!" Jack said.  "Do you honestly think I'd quit over something so petty and stupid?  Don't answer that." 

"Sir..." Carter began to protest.

"I Quit Because I Had To," Jack said, spelling it out like a kindergarten teacher.  "I had no choice."

"You had a choice," Daniel countered, managing to meet his eyes.

"Not this time," Jack said, sorry for Daniel, the position he'd put Daniel in.

"There is always a choice," Teal'c said.

What, were they deaf? 

"Not this time.  I have my reasons."

"That is not acceptable, O'Neill," Teal'c said.  "Though we have won many victories together against the System Lords, Anubis has proven a most formidable enemy.  He threatens not only all free Jaffa, but the Tau'ri.  We have not yet found the weapon to defeat him.  You cannot withdraw from battle."

It was true, everything the big guy said was true, but..."I have to."

"Why?" Carter was honestly bewildered.  "What could possibly be more important?"

"Because I love someone," Jack said, watching for the quick, white-knuckled clench of Daniel's hands. 

Carter flushed, torn between distress and a specific hope Jack recognised but didn't want to deal with.  That he might love her, that this might be for her.  God knew she'd waited and wanted it long enough, Jack's commitment. 

It was Jack's fault, he'd let her go on believing, go on hoping.  Easier for him to ignore it than to deal with it.  Carter was sure of him now, glowing, ready to shoulder responsibility, launching into some sort of explanation for what she thought was happening.

"It's Daniel," he said.

Carter heard what Jack said, but it didn't compute.  He had to turn around, had to look right at her, make her see him and hear him. 

"Daniel," he said again.  "I love him."

"You sonovabitch."  It was a whisper.  Daniel was too mortified for real anger, ashen, folding in on himself.

Carter really did get it then.  Not from what Jack was saying, but Daniel's reaction to it.  She heard Daniel, she saw him in a way she couldn't Jack.  "Oh, my God." 

Jack thought Carter was going to throw up, the expression on her face indescribable.  There was rage and pain and the same stunned contempt Jack had seen Hammond struggle with, but it wasn't aimed at Daniel.  She loved Daniel dearly and she knew him way better than she knew Jack.  She understood instinctively he was innocent in this.

"I can't love Daniel and stay in the military," Jack told Teal'c, mostly to accommodate Daniel's heroic struggle for composure.  "I'd be breaking all kinds of laws."

With his history and forthright opinions, Teal'c was forced to concede this, albeit grudgingly.  "It would not be honourable.  I understand."

"I don't," Daniel said, managing to open his eyes and try to face them.  "Jack leaving the team is the last thing I wanted."

"And yet he has done so."

"You mean that," Carter said to Daniel.

"I do."  Now, Daniel was looking less embarrassed than angry. 

Jack was glad he was feeling better. 

"But apparently it's all about what Jack wants."

"It always was."  Carter recognised the simple truth of this, too slow, too late.  She could have crushed Daniel if she chose, confronted him with Jack's secrets and lies.  Instead, she softened, asked her friend if he was okay.

"I have no idea," Daniel said with a strained attempt at humour.

"What laws would be broken if you were not in the military, O'Neill?" Teal'c said, apparently feeling they were off-point.

"None.  That's why I've resigned."

"Then you are only required to resign from the military," Teal'c said.  "You need not resign from Stargate Command."

"Huh?"

"That's right!" Daniel revived a tad.  "That's absolutely right.  Teal'c, that's brilliant!"  He appeared to have forgotten he loathed Jack.  "As a civilian employee, Jack would have the same rights I have."

"A civilian?" Jack and Carter said at the same time and in much the same tone.

Daniel, more curious than any cat, had to try it on for size.  "Mr. O'Neill."

"A civilian?" Jack said again, stunned.  Mr. O'Neill?  Mister?  Dear God.

"You say that like it's a synonym for leper, Jack," Daniel complained.

"I was going to get a dog," Jack said.

"You'd be better off with a job."

"Doing what?" Jack said.  "Nobody listens to civilians!"

"Ambassador to the Asgard," the civilian suggested whimsically.  "They won't listen to anyone else."

"That much is true," Carter said.

"Perhaps a military adviser," Teal'c said, not particularly enthused about the prospect of Ambassador O'Neill.

"Not gonna happen!" Jack said.  "I'm quitting the military to move in with a guy!"

This was news to the guy.

"My credibility is shot!  And if I go back gay, I might get shot."

"By the guy!" the guy shot back.

Teal'c thought the guy was really funny.

Carter didn't.  "The colonel is right," she said.  "At least so far as his credibility is concerned.  Under the…the circumstances, I don't see a way back from this."  She didn't sound convinced there should be a way.

"Would you consider living off-world, O'Neill?"

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

"Among Jaffa, the fact that you are...loyal...to Daniel Jackson would not be questioned."

"Really?" Presented with a new cultural quirk to worry at, Daniel revived a bit more.  "There's no prejudice against...um, loyalty?"

"A true warrior proves himself in battle."

"Wow.  I mean, I always assumed," Daniel began.  Then his face changed comically as he forgot the general and wigged out once more over the specific.  "Loyal? What the hell am I talking about?"

Loyal.  Jack liked it.  Not too mushy, not too graphic.  Loyal.

"Sir?"  Carter said.  "Sir?  Can I speak to you?  In private?"

Oh, crap. 

There was nothing Jack could say, not after everything he'd just put her through.  Carter wanted a piece of him, he figured he owed her that much at least.  He made a production job of it, but he did get his fat retired ass out into the yard and offered it up for a chewing. 

Looking as if she smelled something bad, Carter moved away from the deck, out of even Jaffa earshot.

"Daniel's right," she said.  "You really are a sonovabitch."

"Carter!"  He'd never imagined those words coming from her, wasn't prepared for the burn of losing her respect.  Not that there was much he could do about it.  Along with his rank, he'd surrendered the right to slap her down.

"You knew how I felt!" she burst out.  "You knew it and you let me go on feeling it, believing you felt it too."

"There was a time..."

Carter cut him off.  "I don't think so."  She took a hasty step or two away from him, then rounded on him.  "I can't believe you've done this.  And I'm not even talking about me.  I mean Daniel!  Did you see him in there?  He's absolutely mortified.  I know, Teal'c knows, my God, the general knows what you want with him!"

"He loves me!"

"I've never doubted it!" Carter said.  "I've read his journals, remember?  I know how close you've been to him, how he depends on you.  You and you alone.  What I can't understand is how that gives you the right, how that justifies..."  Her voice shook.  "A sexual relationship."

"He's not a baby, Carter.  I'm not pushing him into anything.  He can be tougher than you and me both."

"He can be frailer too," she said.  "You heard what he said to us.  That this was the last thing he wanted.  It seems to me you've taken away any other choice Daniel had and this is all he's got."

"I'm trying to do the right thing here, Carter."

"For you."

"Sure this is about Daniel and me, Carter?  Not you and me?"

"I'll get over it," she said, squaring up to him proudly.  "I'm not sure Daniel will.  It's obvious he's not ready for the kind of relationship you want.  He may never be ready."

Jack used her own words on her.  "I think it's worth the risk."

"I think that when you were burning your bridges, Colonel, you should have realised Daniel was the one you were dousing in gasoline."

 

 

No one came near Colonel Jack O'Neill, USAF (Retired). 

No phone calls, no emails, no visits, not even any suspicious vehicles parked out in the street.  He called his service, had his house cleaned, his laundry done, his yard mowed and tidied.  He shopped for groceries and assorted beverages, got his truck detailed, swept his house for bugs.  He made an appointment for physical therapy at the Air Force Academy hospital, looked into his finances, his pension, listened to some opera, dove into his TIVO backlog, read a book.

Missed Daniel in every way, all the time.  Every instinct took him to Daniel, but he had the sense, the experience with the man to know Daniel was so pissed, so upset with him, he had no option but to give him some space to react, some time to think it through, remember he loved Jack and come around.

All Jack's dependence was on Daniel loving him.  It was the one absolute in this small, slow world he now inhabited.

Instead of calling every hour of every day, instead of storming over to Daniel's place to stake his claim, he rested his knee, licked his wounds, fought down panic when Daniel didn't call, didn't come back to him. 

He was all too aware of the hours to fill, the empty house, his empty life.  His own doing, ultimately survivable, but for now that didn't help.  Because he'd been through this before, he knew how easy it was to drift, to give up control and let his life shrink.  He had to impose a new structure, a new focus.  Had to keep his drive and energy, or he'd be no good to himself, let alone Daniel.

Retirement should be different for him this time.  It would be different because he had Daniel.  He could look forward, and not back.  He imagined what Daniel would be like to have in his house, in his life.  How Daniel would mess it up and make it right.  He wandered from room to room, tried to picture Daniel there, feeling comfortable enough to share this space.  To fit in.  Jack wanted him there.  He wanted that to be enough.

After three or four days of silence, of being ignored, trying to fill up all this time, Jack cracked and made a call to Daniel, opened the lines of communication.  His timing sucked.  He called too late in the day to catch Daniel before he left for the SGC, too early to have anything to do but wait Daniel out, drive himself mad with the waiting. 

Having put himself out there, he couldn't do anything but watch his phone.  It was pathetic to second guess himself like this, but that didn't make him stop.  He knew Daniel loved him, but when he got right down to it, he didn't know if Daniel would call him back. 

They knew each other in more ways, more intimately than most couples dreamed, but they didn't know each other this way.  Now it was all about feelings, it was entirely personal for them. 

A key area of their lives, their relationship, that Jack had chosen to conceal, while for his part, Daniel was instinctively guarded and reticent.

Jack couldn't shake the feeling he was out of the war and in for the fight of his life.

Needing distraction, he went online, checked out pottery classes and golf course membership, things he'd tried and liked, and had never....things he now had the time for. 

He wondered if Daniel liked dogs, if he'd ever had a dog, if he'd like a dog now. 

Unconditional love, that struck him as something Daniel could use in his life.  Something to take him out of his own head as much as Jack hoped to. 

He checked out puppies most of the morning, barbecued a couple of dogs when he got hungry, then looked into shelters and rescue dogs in the Colorado Springs area, optimistically thinking one of those might do.  Even if Daniel wasn't big on dogs, he was the Comeback Kid, he was all about the rescue thing.

He was also the most stubborn man who'd ever lived and would have to learn the hard way he wasn't going to break Jack's resolve just by holding out.  Way past time for Jack to go get him, go get this straightened out.

Jack got on the phone, made reservations for two at the Prickly Pear, showered, shaved, changed into a decent pale green shirt with beige pants and a tan jacket.  He felt weird, dressing up for Daniel, but he figured that evened things out, because Daniel was going to feel even weirder, undressing for him.

Sex was the big issue, the big ticket item, the elephant in the truck the whole drive over to Daniel's cramped little house, which Daniel, unsurprisingly, wasn't in.  Daniel had fish who needed regular care and feeding despite his frequent absences, which meant Jack had keys as well as a horribly aching knee.  He hesitated about one second before letting himself in.

His knee really did hurt, his jacket was really smart and easily creased, the bedroom door really was the first on the left as you went in the house.  This happy combination of factors left Jack in shirt sleeves, sprawled experimentally on Daniel's bed, which was too short for either of them and too narrow for both of them to roll around in.

It was the bed of a single, celibate man.

Pretty hard for Jack to argue that one.  Whatever he fantasised alone in the dark, here, in the cold light of early evening, it was almost beyond him to imagine Daniel naked, sweaty and working off stress in this bed.  Hard to imagine Daniel touching himself or wanting to be touched, not when he could be reading a perfectly good book. 

Hard to work out why. 

Daniel was, after all, very much a guy.  He was buff, hot, physically capable.  He was also incredible-looking but too damn cerebral and caught up in the mysteries of life, the universe and everything to know or to care, or to notice when other people did.  For an introvert, he didn't think about himself all that much.  Even his beloved Sha'uri had had her work cut out trying to pierce that unconscious, distracted, inconvenient armour of innocence Daniel Jackson came wrapped in. 

The fish, Jack felt, were symptomatic.  Pets you didn't have to pet.  You could look, but not touch.  Care for, without having to engage.  Fish were all about distance.

What would Daniel do when Jack closed the distance between them, when Jack touched him?

He heard the jeep pull up outside the house, eased himself off of the bed and made it to the front door about the same time Daniel came in, juggling his bulging over-sized briefcase and an armful of books.  Jack knocked those out of his way, pulled Daniel into his arms, pinned him against the wall.  

Eight years he'd held himself back, waiting and longing for this.  Eight years raging, all his frustration, passion and love pounding into Daniel, that fine, strong body crushed the length of him.  All Jack knew was Daniel.  He was on him now, tremors running through them, hearts slamming, panting breaths mingling.  Eight years and a second more, their eyes open, gazes holding, fear and love taking them, Jack taking Daniel's beautiful, stubborn mouth. 

All Jack's wanting pouring into Daniel's mouth, the force and movement of grinding lips.  Eyes closing, bodies arching, soft fullness yielding, the touch and taste, the glide and thrill, the shivering, sinuous heat of tongues. 

Jack loved an honest man.  He was loved.  Love was utterly changing them.  Daniel couldn't push him away and pull him in, not both together.  He made the choice, or Jack made it for him.  Daniel's hands on Jack's face, his mouth on Jack's, Daniel kissing Jack. 

 _Daniel._  

They kissed slowly, deeply.  Kissed strong, hard, completely.  Kissed in love.   

Daniel eyes stayed closed, after, his hands trembling on Jack's shoulders.  "Oh, my God," he said, hardly breathing.

"Now you know I love you.  You know I want you.  Now it's real."  Finally free to touch as he wanted, Jack dropped his hands to hold Daniel's slim hips, jolting him with the intimacy.  "I didn't want to hurt you with any of this, Daniel, I never meant for that, but we can't undo it.  We have to go on."

"I'm mad at you," Daniel said, unable to look at him yet. 

"I know."

"I miss you."

"I figured as much," Jack said with a warm smile. "That's why I came.  I made us reservations."

"Reservations?"  Daniel opened his eyes at the seeming non sequitur.

"Taking you out to dinner."

"Dinner?"

"A date, Daniel.  Our first date.  Good food, a little wine and conversation."

"I, uh, I get to talk?"

"And then you get to spend the night with me, making love."

Daniel reddened.  "I'm not okay with the kissing yet."

"Trust me on the kissing.  It's all good."

He kissed Daniel very gently, smiling when a tentative mouth moved softly with his.

"All good," he said again, brushing a possessive thumb over Daniel's lips.  "I couldn't figure out what would happen if I did this.  If I touched you.  If you would touch me back.  So I had to do it.  I had to know."

"I don't know."

"You're touching me now."

"I'm not sure how to translate this."  Daniel flexed his fingers against Jack's shoulders before dropping his hands.  "Into, into making love.  With you."

"I'm pretty fluent, myself.  I could take you to bed now, take you right through that block."

Daniel shook his head mutely.

"I love you, you love me," Jack said.  "There's no doubt of that, not any more.  Not for either of us.  Making love is the next logical step for us."

"Logic?"  Daniel blinked at the improbability of this.  "Jack, you're not going to talk me into bed."

"Then how about just sharing one?  Sleep with me.  Next to me, I mean.  No expectation.  I just, I want you around."

"I'm beat, Jack." Daniel sighed, melting Jack with an awkward hug.  "Can we please take a rain check on the, uh, the date?  Right now I just want to eat and crash.  I can't think about all this.  About us.  I've had days and I haven't been able to make any sense of it, any decisions.  It's too much."

"You're having problems, you come to me, right?" Jack said.  "Hammond..."

"General Hammond has been acutely uncomfortable, distant and discreet.  For my sake at least," Daniel said, stooping to gather up his books before walking into his small, pristine white and black kitchen. 

He put his things on the counter, reached into a cupboard, took out a couple of cans of tomato soup, grabbed a saucepan and, surprisingly, let Jack take them from him.  Let Jack take care of him.  A hugely positive step.  Daniel leaned tiredly against the kitchen counter while Jack heated the soup, cut and buttered wedges of thick, crusty bread, and poured them each a glass of iced water.

They ate the simple meal side by side at the kitchen island, Daniel quiet at first, Jack openly watching him.

"Jonas has been back," Daniel said after a while.  "Kelowna was facing imminent destruction from a massive naquadria explosion."

"That never gets old for them."

"This one would've taken out the entire planet.  Cue days of bitching and moaning from the representatives of the ruling council, who couldn't seem to grasp this simple fact.  Their arrogance, stupidity, and gloating over Kelowna's fate made the protracted negotiations to relocate them unnecessarily unpleasant.  The irony was, they did this to themselves.  Sam worked out it was the naquadria bomb the Kelownans detonated that set in motion the chain reaction."

"I don't want this construed as me giving a rat's ass, but Carter fixed it, right?"

"Sam, Teal'c, Jonas, and his girlfriend, who turned out to have been a Goa'uld all along."

"Somehow, it doesn't surprise me Quinn wound up dating a Goa'uld."

"Well, our hyper-observant friend wasn't all that surprised you wound up dating me."  Daniel managed something resembling a smile.  "He didn't buy the official line the general put out about your knee."

"Hammond isn't considering...Jonas isn't after my spot on the team?"

"I think he's after world peace and getting to know his new-old girlfriend, not necessarily in that order.  And, exploding planets aside, SG-1 is stood down until Hammond can appoint your replacement."

"He accepted my resignation?"

"You made it impossible for him to do anything else."

"I didn't have any choice.  I wanted us."

"Try looking less miserable you got it."

"I miss it, okay?  The team, the gate, Hammond.  I miss it all.  Just not as much as I miss you."

"I don't know what to say to that. I don't know what to do with that."  Daniel didn't know what to do with this man who'd just taken every certainty from him with a single kiss.  "I look at myself, and I just, I don't see what you do.  I don't see why you would give up everything that matters just to be with me.  It's, it's too much for me, Jack."

"If I hadn't crippled myself, maybe.  But most of those things that matter, I don't get to have whatever happens between me and you.  If I took the desk job Hammond offered, I wouldn't have SG-1, I wouldn't have the gate and I wouldn't have you.  You may think it's too much.  For me it isn't nearly enough."

Thinking this over, Daniel actually looked less daunted.

"Typical!"  Jack shook his head in fond exasperation.  "Typical of you to feel better because I think less of you than I'm meant to.  I've loved you for years, Daniel, and done nothing about it.  There's nothing for you to feel guilty about.  So relax, okay?  You didn't do this to me, I did it to myself, and I did it to you.  I kept going out in the field even though I was slowing down, even though my back hurt and my knee blew out.  I caused the accident, I decided I wanted you more than I wanted a desk job.  I'm telling you, as grand gestures go, it's little enough."

Daniel's face softened into a low-key, but genuine smile.  "It's so strange to hear you talk like this.  To have you talk to me."

"You should be honoured," Jack said.  "One of the main reasons my wife left me was because I didn't talk to her.  With you, I can't seem to keep my yap shut.  I don't even want to.  And you get to talk too."

 

Daniel liked that.  He liked that very much. 

"You see?" Jack said.  "There are all kinds of advantages to being with me.  Now I'm not having to hold myself back any more, I mean.  Conversation.  Getting to know each other maybe differently than we have before.  Hanging out together, having an actual social life.   Sleeping together, making love."

"Not tonight.  Not, not for a while," Daniel said, dropping his head.

Jack wasn't a fool.  He didn't waste time on disappointment, not when he saw this for what this was.  Commitment.  A huge commitment on Daniel's part.  A leap of faith.  "Yes!" he whooped, pulling Daniel into an impulsive embrace. 

Daniel hugged him back, managed an answering smile, responded shyly when Jack kissed him.  Daniel's deep-seated insecurity about himself, his uncertainty about sex, Jack had to respect those.  He held himself in check, held Daniel quietly, kissed him slowly,  expressing the tenderness he felt for him instead of his passion.  Daniel moved into him, took Jack into him, deepened the kiss, thrilled by the intimacy.

Now, this.  God, this was what Jack had waited all these years for.  The gentlest, simplest thing.  For Daniel to love him, and let Jack love him back.

Daniel was so moved by the kiss, so humbled by the way Jack looked at him, he was brave enough to reach out again, to skim inquisitive fingers wonderingly over Jack's face from brow to throat, lingering over the wound on Jack's brow.  He was fascinated by this newfound licence.  Not wholly convinced by it.

Jack had won him.  Daniel was with him, even if he was still unconsciously waiting for a shoe to drop.

"Want to grab a glass of wine, maybe go sit out of the deck?" Jack said.  "Hang out for a while?"

"I'd like that."  Daniel smiled, then he kissed Jack, a warm whisper of lips and delicate touch of tongues.

They sat in Daniel's kitchen for an hour or more, kissing, kissing, kissing again.  Jack didn't push, didn't try for any more.  Made sure Daniel knew he could trust him, that there was no question.  Daniel was grateful for this first of many translations, growing more responsive, more confident because of it.  He was practically in Jack's lap when Jack's control finally threaded and he had to call time. 

Daniel sat back, eyes closed, head tilted, processing.  When he did look at Jack and took in how he got Jack's motor running, he found it funny.

"Hey!" Jack said.  "You're a guy too, y'know.  You should feel my pain."

"I'll get you that wine," Daniel offered, slipping out of reach before Jack could retaliate.  Retreating to the safety of the fridge, he grinned, eyeing a specific portion of Jack's anatomy.  "You want ice for that?"

Very funny.

"You'll pay for that."

"Some other day," Daniel said, very busy with the wine.

So much manna from heaven.

"You're on," Jack said.  "And so is dinner.  Tomorrow night.  You and me on a real, live date."

"A little conversation."

"Good food."

"A kiss goodnight."

"That was meant to be a night of lovemaking."  Jack pouted for comic effect, moving in to corner Daniel.

"Maybe, uh, maybe some other night." Daniel was unsure what tone to take or how he should respond in kind, especially with Jack right in front of him like this.  He was a great kisser, but something of a novice at flirting.  Nothing to do with Jack, everything to do with Daniel.

"Playing hard to get?" Jack was cool with that.  The thrill of the chase and all.

"More working out how to play," Daniel said, his brow wrinkling.

"You're doing great so far.  Just keep right on being yourself," Jack said, taking one of the glasses of wine.

Daniel's brow wrinkled some more.  He was having to work at this one.  "And that's enough for you?" he asked.  "Me, I mean."

"I could ask you the same," Jack shrugged, slipping an arm around Daniel's waist.  "You're a bright guy, Daniel.  Too bright to have fallen for me, so there must be something wrong with you too.  I am what I am and you of all people see me for what I am. You have to know I'm gonna eat you alive in this.  I could jump you right now and the only reason I don't is I love you.  That, and you'd kick my ass."

"I guess you're right," Daniel said, relaxing enough to slip an arm around Jack too.  "I see as much in you as you see in me and neither of us gets what the other sees."

"This is why we work so well.  Separately we make no sense, but we're good together."

Daniel did know Jack.  He recognised Jack's expression, even if he was thrown by the context.  By being the focus of it.  "I'm not sleeping with you," he said.  "Not tonight anyway."

Jack thought making light of it was the best he could do.  Daniel didn't have that much experience, or even that much interest in sex, so Jack's upfront desire for him had to be the hardest part of this for him to take.  Maybe part of it was simply that Jack was a man and it was new for Daniel to be wanted this way.  Mostly Jack figured it was specifically him, Jack O'Neill, wanting sex with him when Daniel was having a hard enough time adjusting to the notion of having a conversation.  Going to bed with Jack was this whole other thing.

"I'll get you drunk.  Take care of it tomorrow."

Daniel had to grin.  "This is going to take a lot of getting used to.  You're, uh, you're fairly direct."

"Persistent too."

"I'm just not impulsive this way."

"You've been hurt."  Jack kissed him lingeringly.  "Trust you won't get hurt again."

 

 

Jack's long, leisurely, empty day kick-started when Daniel showed up for their date, nervous, sexy and smiling.  He was wearing these dark blue-grey jeans which were low-slung, tight around his thighs, flaring out a bit over his feet.  His jacket was grey; some soft, unstructured fabric.  The un-tucked shirt was white, striped with blue, open cuffs falling over his hands below the jacket sleeves, several buttons undone to bare his throat.

Daniel was startled when Jack kissed him on the lips, hello, there in public, but kissed him back.  After, he was noticeably more nervous and couldn't think of anything to say.

"You look good enough to eat," Jack said with a grin, steering him to the restaurant.  The Prickly Pear was elegant and expensive, with excellent food, discreetly spaced tables, polished and romantic.  A restaurant for dates, not families.

An engaged student of people and culture, Daniel couldn't fail to correctly categorise the couples-only ambience as he and Jack were shown to their table, seated and offered exotic beverages along with their menus.

Never much of a drinker, Daniel asked for water.  Since Jack was determined to get Daniel home and into his bed, he asked for water too.  He wanted to work on Daniel's comfort level with him, not threaten a drunken pass.

"Nice place," Daniel said, observing etiquette.

It was.  The décor involved rich shades of cream and frosted greens, with heavy but unfussy drapes, lots of blonde wood and funky modern art on the walls.  There were candles on the tables, the overhead lighting dimmed to encourage privacy and conversation.  The restaurant was close to full, but hushed, the twenty-odd couples there each wrapped up in their own business.  When Jack glanced around, he saw at least one other relaxed male couple eating dinner and guessed he'd made the right choice.  The service here was welcoming as well as impeccable. 

Daniel was hiding behind his menu.

"Relax," Jack said.  "It's just a date."

Daniel lowered his menu, looking indignant.

"Okay, not just a date," Jack said.  "Our date.  Our first official date.  A date as in we're dating.  Seeing each other.  In a relationship.  Together.  Involved."

"I know that."

"Isn't it great?"

"It's strange."

"We've grabbed food before."

"Not in a place like this and not with any kind of agenda."

Jack cleared his throat.

"Okay, not with any kind of agenda I was aware of," Daniel amended.  "We used to talk about work and stuff that mattered, not about us."

"We can talk about work.  Tell me about your day."

"I can't discuss it.  Your security clearance was revoked."

"We talked about your day yesterday."

"I forgot."

"Come on, Daniel.  Give me a break.  Eight years I've been telling you to shut up.  Now you can talk, you've got nothing to say?"

"I've got so much to say I don't know where to start."

"How are Carter and the big guy?  How are they being with you?  Start there and work up."

"Awkward.  Concerned.  Unsure what to say or do for the best.  Sam has trouble trying to act normal around me, and Teal'c won't go away."

"Looking out for you, huh?"

"He's been doing some research into military attitudes towards..."  Daniel gestured from himself to Jack.  "He's concerned about, uh, unpleasantness if word gets out we're dating, seeing each other, in a relationship, together, involved."

"Prejudice exists, you don't need me to tell you that.  But I've done nothing wrong, Daniel.  I followed the damned regs to the letter and did the honourable thing, resigned to be with you.  And as a civilian, your private life stays private.  Your rights are protected.  Anyone finds out about us, anyone has a problem with us, they can bring it to me."

"I can fight my own corner, thanks.  If I couldn't, I wouldn't be here with you."

Jack smiled.  Daniel smiled too.

The waiter asked for their order.

They were boring steak-and-potato guys, even if the steak came flamed in brandy pepper sauce and the potatoes Dauphinoise.  They'd shared worse food in stranger places, shared each other's company for years.  They got along.  They couldn't shake the habit just because sex was now in the equation.

"You still thinking about us?" Jack asked after they'd demolished the artistically presented cuisine.  "Thinking us through?"

"Oh, after last night, after kissing you, I've, uh, I've made my bed.  Now you just have to get me into it."

"Was that a joke?  Are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe."

"I'm so proud." 

"I'm a linguist," Daniel said.  "This, flirting, this is a language.  Of a sort.  I should be able to master it.  Like any language."

Jack leaned in.  Daniel pushed the candle to one side, then leaned in too.

"You're good at speaking in tongues."

"You're good at that too." Daniel's bemused, slightly doubtful gaze focused on Jack's mouth.

"You want to kiss some more?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Check, please!"

Daniel was flattered, then amused by his own reaction.  "Smooth, Jack, very smooth."

The waiter materialised.  "Everything to your liking, gentlemen?" he asked, glancing at their plates.

"Yes, uh, thank you," Daniel said.  "Everything was great.  That call for the check was just a joke."

"No, it wasn't," Jack said.

"May I offer you gentlemen dessert?" the waiter said.

Daniel brightened up.

"I'll buy you an ice cream on the way home," Jack offered.

Daniel frowned.

"I'll buy you an ice cream and a book on the way home."

Daniel dimpled delightfully, charmed by Jack's single-minded determination.  Or the book.  Books were the way to Daniel's heart.

The waiter knew he was beat, clearing the table, presenting the bill, accepting their generous gratuity with a fervent wish for their speedy return.

"Take me home?" Jack asked as they strolled out into the late evening sun.  "I took a cab tonight.  Had my first physical therapy appointment this morning and my knee is aching like crap."

"I'm sorry," Daniel said.  "I'm sorry you're in pain.  When you came over last night, I just assumed, because you were there?  I never asked."

"I kept you pretty busy that I recall."

"I should've asked."

"I'm muddling through." Jack was enjoying the make-up sympathy.  "I wouldn't admit this to another living soul, but I'm almost glad of the rest.  My physical therapist is built like a WWF champ.  A couple hours with her just about finished me off."

"Does that mean?  Uh..."

"That means you should stay over and take care of me, and yes, Daniel, it also means your honour is safe from me, at least for tonight."

"Stay?"

"I told you last night.  I want you to stay the night with me.  We don't have to have sex, I just want you there, okay?"

"Okay."

"Really?"

"I'm not sure if tonight is, uh, the night for that.  But yes, okay.  I take your point.  We have to start somewhere, right?"

"I like that attitude."

The jeep was in the far corner of the restaurant parking lot and Jack was limping a little by the time they reached it.  Daniel's concern for him was nice, but what he needed was a Tylenol.  And a distraction. 

"I signed up for a pottery class today," he said as he eased gingerly into the passenger seat.

"Pottery?" Daniel wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"I tried it out during that time-loop fiasco.  I was getting pretty good.  I like it.  It's work with the hands."  He held his out in front of him, fingers spread wide.  He had calluses from all the weapons handling, a scar or two, wrinkles across his knuckles that weren't so pronounced a few years before.  He was not a young man.

"I didn't know that about you," Daniel said, driving out of the parking lot onto the road. 

"Blowing shit up is not my only interest."

"Pottery, though."

"I'm full of surprises."

"Apparently."

It was around 21.00 and traffic was light.  They were on the I-25 within minutes, headed for Jack's house in Broadmoor.  The wind whipping through the open jeep was cool and pleasant, clearing their heads.  Jack rubbed his knee, enjoying the drive, the company, the anticipation.

"Pottery classes," Daniel said as he was turning onto Lake Avenue.  "Your retirement is real.  You're not coming back, are you?  I know, I know," he said before Jack could speak.  "You've been telling me that for more than a week now.  I was just having a hard time believing it.  I really can't imagine you with a life outside the SGC."

"It's not my first time at this barbecue either, Daniel.  I've retired before.  I made it through okay.  Remember, both times, the Air Force came after me, not the other way around."

"You weren't giving up the Stargate then."

"And I wasn't getting you."

As little as Daniel could cope with this sort of remark, Jack saw he was getting through to him.  There was no reflex put down; not of Jack, but of himself.  That was breaking the habit of a lifetime right there.  No one hit Daniel harder than he could hit himself.  This, the listening and the starting to hear, this meant Daniel wanted to believe Jack.  However much it scared him, he loved and he wanted to be loved.

It was really good they made it home then, because when Daniel came around to see Jack made it out of the jeep okay, Jack caught him and kissed him as hard as he could.  Daniel kissed him just as passionately, quivering when Jack squeezed his ass and rubbed hungrily against him. 

It was a horrible twinge from his knee that made Jack break off, rather than the show they were putting on for the neighbours behind those high fences.  He practically hauled Daniel along the path to the house and was ready to kick the door down in the time it took him to find his keys and get the damn thing open.

"Bed," he growled the moment they were safe inside, forgetting all his good intentions. 

He spooned up behind Daniel, arms across his sleek, muscled belly, rocking persuasive hips against that tight, lovely ass so Daniel got they were a perfect fit.  Jack had fantasised more than once about taking Daniel like this, usually in his lab or some place like that, just bending him over and fucking him hard.  Fantasy Daniel always loved Jack fucking him, always went wild and came for him at the exact time Jack wanted him to.  Fantasy Daniel's clothes melted away on cue and he never freaked out.

The real Daniel didn't freak out, or try to break away, but he was thinking rather hard about penetration.  No pun intended.  No joke.  Possibly thinking about the two of them fucking for the first time.  Jack was way ahead of him in this book. 

Jack eased up and kissed the back of Daniel's neck, touched and relieved when Daniel leaned into him.  "Skipped a few chapters there on you, huh?"

"No, no, I guess I knew what you really wanted, where this was going.  I'm not completely comfortable with it and that's why I've been asking for time.  To, uh, to adjust.  Work out if it's something I want too."

"Other things we can try in bed?"

"I'm doing better with those."

"That's good enough for me."

Daniel could have challenged this, but he did know Jack, and he did love him, so he took him at his word.  "I'll stay," he said, taking the risk.  "I'll sleep here tonight.  With you."

"Hey."  Jack smiled, reluctantly letting Daniel go.  "That's great.  You want to put on a pot of coffee while I take a Tylenol and apply some ice?"

"Wouldn't heat be better?"

"I wasn't talking about the knee."

Remembering his own joke from the night before, Daniel laughed.  He actually laughed.  Out loud.  He looked a whole lot better for it, too.

"Dating's good for you."  Jack beamed, giving him a fond little pat on the butt before limping off to the bathroom in search of pain relief.  He took a pill, splashed cold water on his face and sat on the toilet for a minute, thinking it was true what they said, how you could only feel one real pain.  The ache between his legs at least took the edge off his knee. 

Then he heard his bedroom door open and went out to investigate.

Daniel was in the lion's den, looking bashful and determined, holding his jacket and shoes.  "Sorry," he said.  "I was getting nervous waiting for you and I thought, I hoped...Like you said last night, I needed to know if I could do this." 

"I need to know too," Jack said.  "Because the physical side will only ever go as far as we both want to take it.  Plus, I'll be really glad to elevate my knee."

 "Could you use some ice or a heat pack?" Daniel offered at once, concerned.

"Heat would be good, thanks," Jack said.  "I've got one of those ones you nuke in the microwave.  It's there in the kitchen."

Daniel went right away to get it for him.  Jack used the few minutes it took to heat the pack to undress and throw on one of the pairs of thin sweat pants he'd cut the legs off for comfort during his long rehabilitation.  Thinking of Daniel's modesty, he added a T-shirt, figuring it couldn't hurt as a statement of non-intent. 

With his knee raised on a pillow, he was almost as glad to see the heat pack as he was to see Daniel, busying himself with that while Daniel self-consciously undressed.  Not that he took off much.  His socks and jeans, yes.  Those he folded on the chest at the foot of Jack's bed.  The shirt he kept.  His glasses too.

Jack could've offered him pyjamas, sweat pants, whatever.  He kept his yap shut because this ingrained modesty was so cute and Daniel's long, bare legs were so great.  It gave him an inconvenient pang of desire to imagine those legs around his back or over his shoulders while they fucked, but the throb in his knee was actually worse now than the throb of his cock, keeping him pure.

Daniel slid under the covers and curled up on his side facing Jack, deeply uncomfortable but willing to put himself out there.  From a slight distance.  "You look pale," he said.

"I'm screwed, Daniel," Jack said.  "Three knee operations, near constant pain and I stubbornly stayed out in the field.  The physical therapist was about as confident as Fraiser I'd regain full mobility, which is to say not confident at all.  I could be stuck with a permanent limp, and I've no one to thank but myself."

"I don't see you had any choice.  You were saving the world."

"That was mostly you and Carter.  And seeing how you two will still be out there fighting the good fight, I figure the world's in pretty safe hands."

"You give me too much credit and you don't give yourself enough."

"One more thing we have in common."

Daniel didn't even try to argue that one.

"Doing okay?" Jack said.  "Now you're here in bed with me and all."

"My heart feels like it's in the back of my throat."

"Take it easy there, okay?  I'm not going to maul you or anything.  I gave you my word."

"I almost wish you would.  At least I'd know what it was and how I might feel, how I might deal with it."

"While you know I'd be thrilled to get you over here and oblige, my painfully pressing vested interest aside, I don't think 'getting it over with' is a good enough reason for us to have sex tonight.  This whole loving you thing is a pain in the ass like that."

"I love you too," Daniel said, taking Jack more seriously than he'd maybe intended.  "That's why I'm willing to, uh..." 

"Make love?"

Just the words, while they were here in bed together, left Daniel oddly defenceless, silent and shivering with reaction.

"Hey," Jack said, openly concerned, rolling onto his side, reaching across to rub a tense shoulder reassuringly.

"I'm not freaked.  I'm just..."  Daniel looked at Jack with something like helplessness, not even sure he could say what he needed to.  "Imagining."

Imagining them together.  Imagining Jack inside him.  

It would have been the easiest thing in the world, the thing Jack most wanted in the world, to urge Daniel over onto his belly and take him slow and strong, make it last, make it good.  He wanted Daniel so badly he hurt and if he pushed now, when Daniel was so vulnerable to him, he could have him.

Jack took off Daniel's glasses, stretching out to put them on the bedside table.  He also turned off the lamps, leaving them pooled in a darkness stippled with moonlight from the windows.  Then he rolled onto his back, rested his knee on the pillow and re-applied the heat pack.  The pain between his legs was grudging but subsiding.

"I'm guessing this is not what you were imagining," Daniel said.

"I'm glad you're here.  Don't go getting all bent out of shape and figuring this is a let down.  It's what I hoped for.  What I asked for.  You're just finding the other stuff, the physical stuff, that's difficult for you.  I get that."

"It's not difficult to be with you."  Sweet talk, but then Daniel walked the walk, eased over in the bed until he and Jack could feel each other's heat.  "I'm working at this, you know.  I'm trying to see us as we are.  Trying to set aside questions, expectations of gender.  Telling myself I didn't choose to be with a man.  I chose to be with you.  I love you."

"You've loved me for a long time, just like I've loved you."  Painful as Jack found this kind of talk, it was a bullet he couldn't dodge.  "Not your fault I changed the rules on you."

"I just wish I'd been aware.  That maybe this part of it would be easier."

"I guess I thought about it like you do.  That it was about you, not you being a guy.  That I wanted you despite you being a guy.  I kinda, well, I got past that.  Now, you being a guy is part of the you package.  It's not that I don't mind or that I don't care, because I do care.  In a, in a good way.  I got attracted to you a long time ago and it stuck. You, specifically, turn me on."

"I got that."  Daniel glanced down at the still visible tenting of the blankets around groin height on Jack.

"I'm starting to punch your ticket too, so it's all good."

"You want me enough to have conversations like this one, it's terrifying.  This maturity and supportiveness --"

"-- Vested interested."

"I got that too.  In fact, I, uh, I got that my lack of experience in this area is a, a real draw for you."

So he wanted to be the one and only.  So what?  It wasn't a guy thing.  Just a Jack thing.  "It's good you bring that up.  The experience question, I mean.  God knows I couldn't figure out how to get that Intel out of you."  Jack dropped an arm around Daniel's shoulders, tucked him into his side, nice and close and comfortable.  He was used as a pillow for his pains, which suited him fine.

Daniel took hold of Jack's wrist and hand, tracing the shape and breadth of his bones, the length and strength of his fingers, the textures of skin and hair.  He touched Jack with an appealingly gentle diffidence.  A good thing he was not sure of.  "I was married."

"I didn't think you were a virgin."  Jack slid his fingers through Daniel's, capturing his hand and drawing it up to rest on his chest.  "At least, not since we met."

"I'm not impulsive this way.  I never have been."

Daniel had said this to him before.  It was important to him that Jack hear him on this.

"Will you stop trying to let me down easy?" Jack said, offering what reassurance he could.  "You are not going to be a disappointment in bed."

"Thought I already was."

"Want to know what I think?"

"I think that's a rhetorical question."

"I think I'm only the second person you've chosen to sleep with, I'm the wrong gender and we both know I'm going to eat you alive, but you got in bed with me anyway.  I'm chalking this one up as a win." 

And that was some heavy ground covered, right there.  Daniel's sexual history was short and complicated and what Jack had just said wasn't strictly true, because in reality he was the first person Daniel had chosen to sleep with.  And even that wasn't strictly true, because all the choices so far were Jack's.  His trap for Daniel was just slicker than everyone else's, because he knew his friend so well.  He was not going to apologise for that.  For being who and what Daniel needed. 

"You know where you are with me, Daniel.  Who you are."

 

 

Jack's buoyant mood lasted until he opened his door to George Hammond, not Daniel.  The general couldn't fail to see Jack's disappointment, or pretend to misunderstand the reason for it.

"Dr. Jackson is otherwise engaged," he said.  "And likely to be so for several days."

Jack stiffened.  He knew it would happen.  He'd even joked about it, about watching sports and eating bonbons, obsessing while Daniel was out there without him.  He just didn't expect it to happen so soon.  "Off-world?"

"I can't discuss it," Hammond said.  "You made sure of that."  He was still pissed at Jack, but he was here, he hadn't just left him hanging in the wind.  "I could use a beer."

Jack didn't so much invite him in as wander off to the kitchen in search of malt sustenance and leave the door open behind him.  When he came back with two beers, the general was sitting at the dining table waiting for him.

"This is one helluva mess you've made, son," Hammond said, taking the Heineken from Jack.

"That's the pretty much how it works out for me every time I try to do the right thing." Jack shrugged, taking the chair opposite Hammond.

"The right thing?" Hammond raised his bottle in an ironic toast to that.

 "This is the right thing for me.  The right choice, I mean."

"What about what's right for the rest of us?  What about your responsibility to Stargate Command?"

"C'mon, General.  Let's get real.  It's not like you've lost Carter or Daniel.  This is me we're talking about.  An Air Force colonel is a replaceable commodity.  Maybe you'll luck out with my replacement, get someone whose record is nothing like mine."

"If you want to get real, Jack, then by all means," Hammond said.  "The NID have been fairly direct in their attempts to replace me with someone complicit in their agenda for the Stargate programme.  Thanks to your resignation and my impending retirement, you've managed to reduce achieving this goal to a mere matter of time.  They don't have to do anything but wait me out, and when I'm gone...well, you join the dots on that one."

Jack could not come up with a witty retort.

"And then there's the issue of the rogue business elements we've come to know as the Trust.  Once they learn of the nature of your personal relationship with Dr. Jackson, you can imagine what a gift that will be."

"I'd kill anyone who tried it," Jack said flatly.  "Anyone who tried to use Daniel to get to me."

"You resigned, Jack.  It's far more likely they'll use you to get to Dr. Jackson."

That…gave Jack pause.  So much for his naturally modest, self-effacing nature.

"Daniel would tell me."

"Would he?  You sure about that?  Did he tell you Senator Kinsey sent him a fruit basket with a card that said 'Better aim next time'?  Did he tell you there have been ill-judged comments about friendly fire and his causing the injury that resulted in your resignation? Are you sure he wouldn't let personal feelings affect his judgement, that he wouldn't try to protect you to the best of his ability and compromise himself in the process?"

"Is that true?" Jack said.

"It's true that Dr. Jackson more than held his own in an exchange with several accusers.  It's true that Dr. Fraiser and Major Carter put down the rumours extremely effectively before they could take hold and Teal'c smoothed the entire incident over in his own inimitable fashion."

Shifting uncomfortably, Jack inconveniently recalled what Carter had said to him that day, how it was Daniel being doused in gasoline from those burning bridges, not him.  What the hell was he supposed to do?  What point was there in even getting mad?  Late in the day for the thought to finally occur, but it would be worse for Daniel to have the truth come out, that Jack resigned because he was queer for him.  Better to have the malcontents believe he'd crippled Jack than to know Jack was bedding him.  Protecting Jack was exactly what Daniel would do.  Hell, it was what Jack would do for Daniel, if their positions were reversed.  If he was the one left exposed. 

Even Hammond, the convenient target, was not enjoying what he was telling Jack.

"Your ability to protect Dr. Jackson is extremely limited, Jack.  As mine will be in the none too distant future.  It's forcing me to cast a wider net for your replacement than I'd intended or hoped.  I'm having to weigh the field experience and command maturity that comes with a seasoned officer of your generation against the likelihood of a prejudiced response should the nature of Dr. Jackson's relationship with you be discovered."

The expected response from the kind of man Hammond had genuinely believed Jack to be.  Wasn't that ironic.

"I'm having to look at a younger generation of officers, men with potential rather than proven experience, men with more modern attitudes to sexuality."

It was at least encouraging to Jack that Hammond was going to these lengths to protect Daniel, and it wasn't only because their favourite archaeologist had proven himself to be one-of-a-kind irreplaceable.  Daniel was his friend.  Their boy. 

"I'd prefer a man with at least some experience of the Stargate programme, a man who's already surmounted the initial culture shock of learning about alien life.  And a man of integrity."

"Must make for a short list."

"Very short," Hammond said humourlessly.  "I'm looking at a handful of existing SG team leaders and one or two senior F302 pilots."

"I could take a look at those names, make a recommendation," Jack offered without much hope Hammond would take him up on it.

"I can do better than that," Hammond said with an unexpected smile.  "I've involved Dr. Jackson and Teal'c in the selection process."

At least Daniel wasn't off-world.  That was something, at least.  One, Jack would get him into bed later that night, and two, he could yell at him for getting over-protective on his ass just that much sooner.

"You know the political situation is delicate," Hammond said.  "We've been lucky in the past to have the support and stability of a two-term President.  With elections just around the corner, I needn't spell out what a disaster it could be for the SGC if Kinsey is elevated to power on the coattails of Henry Hayes.  The Joint Chiefs have prepared a threat assessment, and, little as they care for your reasoning, your resignation from the Air Force may present an opportunity.  I stress may.  If Kinsey continues to press hard for civilian oversight."

"I'm not a civilian," Jack objected instinctively.  "At least, I am a civilian.  But not in the way you mean."

"Not in the way Kinsey means either.  But better you than an NID, Trust or Intelligence Oversight puppet controlled by Kinsey.  At least that's the Joint Chiefs' current thinking."

"The Joint Chiefs want me in Washington?" Jack said incredulously.

"Want is not the term I'd use, more holding you in reserve if Kinsey attains office and backs them into a corner, and it may not be Washington.  If it's Intelligence Oversight, the posting may be here."

"Flattering as all that is, nope, still not interested.  That pesky retirement thing."

"Even if your presence, your influence could protect Dr. Jackson and the SGC?" Hammond asked, neatly backing Jack into a corner of his own.

"It's a pipe dream," Jack said rudely.  "Never happen, no matter how cornered the Joint Chiefs get.  We're talking about Kinsey here.  Sender of the fruit basket, and all.  One, he hates me, and two, a whiff of why I really resigned from the military and..." Jack mimed cutting his throat.

"Not where Henry Hayes is concerned.  His record on equality issues speaks for itself."

"Not as loudly as Kinsey will be speaking for him, if by some travesty he gets to the White House on Hayes's ticket."

"Just consider it, Jack," Hammond said patiently.  "You're still needed at the SGC and my options for getting you back in any meaningful capacity are extremely limited."

"Did Kinsey really send that fruit basket, or were you exaggerating for dramatic effect?"

"I was not exaggerating in any respect."

"There's your answer."

 

 

When Hammond said Daniel was unavailable, he wasn't kidding.  When Daniel didn't turn up that night, or the next, or answer his cell, Jack guessed part of the selection process for his replacement must be an off-world exercise.  This cruel abandonment gave Jack time to fill.  Lots and lots of time. 

He had another physical therapy session with his WWF champ Maryanne, who'd been wiping the floor with military alpha males of his ilk for decades.  She made him feel like such a wuss for preferring the decadent comfort of a heat pack, he ran right out and bought himself a knee cryo-cuff for the recommended cooling and compression regime to go with his 'challenging' -- read crippling -- programme of rehabilitation exercises.  They helped. 

Every single thing Maryanne shamed, bullied or badgered him into helped.  It wasn't her fault, or her intention, it all made Jack feel like an old, old man.  The worst had to be the pool she'd talked him into visiting every day.  It was just wonderful to be puttering around in the shallow end with a buoyancy board surrounded by strapping young Academy types he wasn't entirely convinced weren't laughing at him.

Maryanne was evil, but effective.  The swelling in Jack's knee went down, the pain eased, he walked more easily, he felt more like himself.  An old, retired version, but still himself.

He was doing okay.  Not having Daniel there made him feel edgy and dull, but the time did pass.  He remembered he owed Daniel a book as well as an ice cream, went out and bought a quantity of both.  Coffee, chocolate, walnut, pecan.  The joys of gay sex.  All good.

If there were shadowy conspirators from the NID or the Trust dogging his steps, he wasn't aware of it.  His house was still clean in every way.  No one in his pottery class looked rogue to him.  They were all nice people, pretty good with the clay, and while he was somewhere in the middle of the age range for the class as a whole, he was about the youngest guy there.  If he wasn't spoken for, it would've been a great place to meet girls.  If you didn't mind them married, desperate for adult conversation and taking time out from Mommy and Me.  The older girls were up there on the availability scale, the flirtiest, filthiest bunch Jack had ever been lucky enough to meet.  The Moms were in awe of them.  Daniel would have loved the dynamic.

Jack didn't see Daniel until early Saturday morning, when he materialised diffidently in the yard in skin tight jeans and a clinging black T-shirt guaranteed to please and tease.  Daniel's face lit with this gorgeous smile for Jack, then he came up onto the deck to kiss Jack hello, self-conscious, admittedly, but friendly.   

"I thought…" Daniel said, presenting his laptop and overnight bag for inspection.  "This weekend?"

"You thought right," Jack said, quite enjoying Daniel's very proper, considered approach to escalating their relationship.  "Want to drop those in my room while I put on some coffee?" he offered, heading back into the house.

"I thought the guestroom," Daniel said.

Jack frowned.  "You don't…"

"I just don't want to raise expectations I may not be ready to meet."

"You didn't seem to have a problem the other night."

"That…wasn't really us, the other night."  Daniel put up a quick hand, pre-empting Jack's objections.  "Just hear me out, okay?  The date, it was fun.  I'm…"  He coloured.  "I'm liking this new side to you, Jack.  Realising just how much of yourself you've kept locked down, and now I have this, this 'in' with you?"

"The closer you get, the more you'll know," Jack tempted.

"I could say the same."  Daniel took the laptop over to the dining room table, set it down and dug into his overnight bag for a sheaf of journals and papers.  "This is me, Jack.  This is fun for me.  The reality of caring for me.  Loving you, getting involved with you, won't change the reality.  My commitments, the demands on me.  You know that."

Jack didn't want to know any damn thing. 

Then Daniel put a hand on his arm and offered up an uncertain, hopeful smile.  "You keep telling me I'm enough for you, Jack," he said.  "I want to believe it."

Jack growled and grudged, shook off Daniel's hand, then caught it in a quick, crushing grip.  "Smartass," he complained, disarmed.  "See?  See what happens when you go taking me at my word?  Eight years I've known you, all the shit you've put me through, you've got to start listening now?"

That small smile of Daniel's widened and he kissed Jack gently.  A thank you flavour this time.

"If I can't change your mind before tonight, pal, you know you're making your own damn bed."

 

 

All in all, Saturday passed pleasantly enough.  As a dose of reality went, it was quiet and pretty companionable.  Daniel spread out his books, journals and papers alongside the laptop, took out his notebook and set to with a will.  He drank the coffee Jack provided, ate a pastry, concentrated ferociously.  After an hour or so, he seemed not so much to forget Jack's presence on the other side of the dining table as to accept it.  He read, wrote in the notebook, on the laptop, in the margins of the journals, smiled in a pleased, distracted way at Jack from time to time.

Jack did a crossword, fed Daniel tuna sandwiches and milk, then brought out several books.  The gay sex ones.  He made some notes of his own, meticulous notes, in the margins.  Next time Daniel smiled his way, Jack silently held up the book so he could take in the cover.  Fully illustrated, there.

Train of thought neatly derailed, Daniel coloured, blinked a bit and succumbed to his particular Achilles heel.  "Can I take a look at that when you're done?"

"Plenty more where that came from."  Jack fondly patted his stack of books, made another note or two.  He won the skirmish, if not the battle.  Daniel worked through the afternoon, but the joys of gay sex tugged at him.

Jack put some effort into dinner.  Baked potatoes loaded with cheese and bacon, crisp onion rings, barbecue ribs, corn, salad, even some dressing. 

"You done?" he asked Daniel. 

"All yours."

"Cool.  I figured we'd eat out on the deck, have a beer or two, then retire to the couch and make out like minks."

"Okay."

"Okay, then."

Daniel went to pee and wash up, then helped him carry dinner out to the deck.  It was early evening and the air was still sun-warmed.  They settled to eat, Daniel even taking a sip or two of his beer.

"You had a good day?" Jack asked.  "Enough 'us' for you?"

"I had a great day.  I got through everything I needed to in pretty good time, and…"

"And?"

Daniel looked straight at him.  "And you were here."

That, Jack liked.  "You'll recall the lack of fuss I made over keeping it real, keeping it more us, today."

"You get definite points for that," Daniel admitted with a grin.  "Not many, but points."

"You get points too."

"For making out?"

"Smart guy.  I always liked that about you."

"How many points?"

"To be determined.  Depends on how dirty and mink-like we get."

Daniel shrugged lightly.  "About the same points as you then."

"Promises."

"I meant what I said earlier.  About expectations.  I'm being, you'll excuse the pun, straight with you.  Straight as I can be."  All of a sudden Daniel looked serious as a heart-attack.  "I'm not saying no to anything, Jack.  I just, I don't know how far I want to go.  How far I can go.  Just coming right out and admitting I love you, putting myself out there, do you know how big of a deal that is for me?"

"I know, Daniel.  I do.  Pretty big deal for me too."

"Honestly, Jack, right now it's easier to push on blindly than to think, to question what it is I'm doing."

"Getting intimate with me is what you're doing.  Not necessarily in ways I expected.  But, yanking your chain aside, I do have an inkling this is not the easiest thing for you.  Not the first choice you'd make."

"Not the choice I've ever made," Daniel said, getting intimate with a vengeance.  "I've never been with anyone I pursued, I wanted to be with.  It, it always seems to be the other way around."

"We catch you," Jack said soothingly.  "It's all about the ambush.  I get it."

"Me too.  Been thinking about it these past few days.  I've also been thinking…"  Daniel took a deep breath.  Then another swig of beer.  "I don't want to lead you on.  Disappoint either of us."

"Ah.  Is this the part where I act all mature and say you couldn't disappoint me, I made your bed but you don't have to lie in it yet, yadda, yadda?"

"Yes.  I really am that pathetic."

"What you are is this sweet, unsuspecting, genius of a guy whose head is in another place.  Oftentimes your ass, I have to say.  It's not your fault you're hot and the rest of us are horny."

Daniel smiled at this, shaking his head a little.  "You have this way of reducing my neuroses and shortcomings to such simple terms I feel stupid for making a fuss in the first place."

"And that's a good thing, right?"

"It's healthy, I think.  Healthier than being alone in own my head the whole time."

"You're coming around to this, aren't you?  To being with me."

"I like being around you, Jack.  I always did," Daniel said, offering this up as a statement of fact, not a compliment.  "Layering all these other things on top of that is difficult, confusing as hell, embarrassing and taking more out of me than I knew I had.  Emotionally, I mean."

"I've lived with it a lot longer, I guess," Jack reflected.  "Not really being into guys, but being into you.  All the things I want with you, I could not imagine with any other guy.  I could not go there.  I don't want to.  I don't dislike women either.  I still think Mary Steenburgen is hot.  It's only you that gets my motor running."

"See, that's the kind of thing I was talking about.  When you put it like that, when you express it in those terms, this attraction almost makes sense."

"The way I look at it, there's this sliding scale with you.  What you're really attracted to, what gets your motor running, is books, artefacts, puzzles.  You're a cerebral guy.  There are those women who've ambushed, married, nishta'd and addicted you.  And then there's me, a guy, your old buddy Jack, who gets you hotter than you wanted."

"You make me nervous too."

"I know that.  It's why I keep telling you there's no rush for the physical stuff."

"So you're not planning to, uh, seduce me tonight?"

It was the way Daniel said this, seduce, like it came with quotations marks.

"In the interests of full disclosure…yeah.  I am.  Seducing you is pretty much my life goal at this point."

It was encouraging Daniel didn't choke on his beer or stab Jack with a fork or anything.

"Maybe if we hadn't known each other for eight years," Jack suggested.  "I can see how my sudden overt interest in nailing your ass could be a little tricky to process." 

"It's, uh, it's certainly focused my mind."

"Try thinking like me," Jack urged.  "I figure my role here is to lay out the options, translate this stuff for you.  What's the worst that can happen?  We try stuff, you don't like it, we do other stuff instead.  The timetable is all you."

"You'd be okay with that?"

"I'd be okay if I could just get my hands on you at this point."

Daniel blushed.  "Oh.  Sorry about that."

"If I get you naked this weekend, I'll be happy.  Naked and allowed to touch."

"I've been over-thinking, you don't have to tell me.  I'm trying to roll with it a little more."

"So long as you roll it in my direction."

"These are not conversations I ever imagined us having."

This much they could agree on.  The trouble was, they'd been the old married couple for years now, finishing each other's thoughts and sentences.  They knew each other that well.  And they didn't know each other at all.  Imagine if the old married couple only figured out there were other things they could be doing in bed than sleeping after eight years in ignorant bliss.  How awkward was that?  Throw in the whole gender, sexuality, masculinity trifecta, Jack and Daniel weren't getting off nearly so light.

"Getting nervous again?" Jack asked Daniel.

"Yes."

"Let's talk about something else."

"Please."

"Get any good fruit baskets lately?  How about threats?"

"They weren't threats,"  Daniel said.  "Just a little venting by some of the people who miss you on base."

"I now have a mental image of a lynch mob," Jack said.  "I hope you put them straight.  I caused the accident.  Me, my knee, my ego and I."

"There were words to that effect."

"Carter stepped in?"

"Sam's the reason I have time off.  Her brother set her up on a blind date with an old friend of his who's only in town for a week or so.  Apparently they had dinner last night and hit it off so well, Sam's taking the whole weekend."

Jack thought Carter hadn't wasted any time and that this might get her off both their asses.  "Teal'c?"

"Took the opportunity to cement diplomatic relations with the Hak'tyl."

"Cool.  That means the whole of SG-1 is getting laid tonight."

"Not the whole of SG-1," Daniel said cautiously, glancing at Jack with real concern. 

"Hammond appointed your fourth," Jack said, readily taking the opening.  "He told me as much.  Is it anyone I know?"

"You might.  He's an F302 pilot, a Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell.  He knows you from briefings, speaks highly of you."

"Good guy?"

"Enthusiastic.  Engaged.  Smart.  He, uh, he's interested in what I have to say and what I do.  He's got stamina too.  He survived Teal'c's version of a competitive interview, even surprised Sam by knowing about stuff like inertial dampeners.  He's transferring in today and wanted some time to play catch up, read through our mission reports before we start intensive team orientation Wednesday." 

"Quick study."

"I think so."

"You care?"

"I miss you.  I want you with SG-1.  I just, now I think I want this too.  I want us."

"Hammond's looking at ways for you to have your cake and eat it," Jack admitted, though he hadn't intended to.  "Not SG-1, obviously.  Not in the field.  Some unspecified civilian post that doesn't exist yet and probably never will."

"You'll consider it though?" Daniel asked, eager to find this particular glass half full.  "If there's anything, any way for you to come back?"

It was a gift to be loved this much by Daniel, who'd been kicked so often he should've learned to stay down.  There was this faith he had in Jack, this connection they shared, uniquely their own.  Impossible to deny him when he wasn't able to deny Jack.  A grudging, ill-tempered grunt made Daniel's day.

"You know it's not up to me, right?" he reminded Daniel.  "Hammond's the one trying to throw this party and Kinsey's the one who'll poop it."

"His fruit basket was nothing to write home about either," Daniel said.  "Teal'c thought it came up light on pineapple."

"You ate the fruit?  Where's my share?"

"Teal'c ate the fruit, which answers both of your questions."

Jack was inclined to be indignant, but his heart wasn't in it enough to come up with any kind of retort.  The worst had happened, he'd been replaced, and he was surprisingly okay with it.  Not that he deserved any credit.  He wasn't being mature or pragmatic about losing a spot he couldn't have held onto anyway, or any of that crap.  Nope.  He was okay because Daniel was getting to be fairly okay with them.  Things were working out.

"I want to meet this guy Mitchell," he warned.

"I never doubted it."

 

 

While it would have been nice to segue naturally from an hour of Animal Cops Houston into a crazed mink make out session on the couch, Jack's knee refused to cooperate.  He parked his feet on a cushion Daniel set on the coffee table for him, accepted a couple of Tylenol and his nuked heat pack with real gratitude.  Talk about lowering expectations.

It was left to Daniel to make the running.  He hadn't been saying no to Jack today, only that he wasn't sure.  Now Jack's hampered mobility gave Daniel the chance to move things along at his pace.  He slid along the couch, reaching out to touch Jack's face.  So much of his work depended on touch, his fingers were deft and sensitive, offering reverence to every line, curve and angle, returning again and again to the healing wound on Jack's brow.  The expression in his eyes, the sudden catch in his breath -- he really thought Jack was something.

Daniel cupped the back of Jack's head, drew him into a slow, sweet kiss that made him ache all over.  They put their arms around one another, holding on tight, tighter.  Kissing deeply.   Daniel took his time, gave Jack time to remember how big of a deal it was they'd admitted they loved each other.  Simply having the freedom to touch, to be open with their feelings, was enough to blow their minds.

Drunk with kisses, Jack slid an arm around Daniel's waist, thinking only how good it was to have him this close after waiting and wanting so long.  All the pressure, thoughts of sex and payoff his sacrifice was due, those slipped away.  Daniel was so into him, so hungry to know him, he was almost bemused by feeling.

They weren't naked, horizontal or minks, but touch was welcomed, their hands stroking over broad shoulders, strong backs, bunching muscles, lean thighs and sharp hips.  They learned one another's shape with single-minded intensity.  Jack wasn't sure whose fingers were the first to find skin, but the awe and shaken gratitude on Daniel's face about killed him. 

Daniel's skin was smooth, soft under Jack's hands, dawn finely over his ribs and spine, ridged with muscle across his belly and arms.  Daniel was equally intent on what he had of Jack under his hands, neither of them particularly suave or co-ordinated in committing the other to memory.

There was a tight, aching point where Jack would've asked Daniel to go to bed with him, but his balls were blue because Daniel hadn't touched them and he had to respect that.  He didn't hold up the white flag or get childish and surly about it, just lost himself in the kissing again.

There were compensations.  There was real warmth in the way Daniel curled up against him when Animal Cops Phoenix came on, some confidence in the easy rubs and touches. A fresh heat pack and a cold beer, no mocking when Jack got caught up in puppy rescue and, best of all, Daniel didn't make up the bed in the guestroom. 

Daniel went into Jack's bathroom to wash up and change, emerging damp around the edges and smelling of mint, dressed in loose dark grey striped pyjama bottoms and a lighter grey T-shirt.  While Jack enjoyed the cling and flow of the soft fabric, Daniel stowed his bag, folded his clothes tidily, then got into bed with Jack.  Without fuss, he closed the slight distance between them, settling his head on Jack's shoulder, putting an arm across his belly.  He tilted his head to kiss Jack's cheek, thanked him for the day, slept. 

Blue balls or not, Jack was smart enough to recognise progress.

 

 

Daniel was already up, showered, shaved and dressed when Jack finally surfaced.  He was investigating Jack's bookshelves, turning around when he heard Jack stir.

"I seem to get a lot of sleep when we sleep together," Jack said.

Daniel came over to sit on the bed.  "I love Sundays," he said.  "It's my day off.  I kind of have this routine.  Cracker Barrel for breakfast with the works, an hour in the book stores, pick up a novel or something light, maybe check out a movie or take a walk, gorge myself on junk food, read for a while.  How does that sound?"

"Not that different than what I do with my Sundays," Jack said, feeling more than a twinge of regret it'd taken everything it had for them to be here sharing one.  All that time wasted.  "Substitute the Sunday papers and watching a couple or three taped games." 

Looking up into Daniel's bright, expectant face, Jack thought with surprise that the singular pain in his ass was pretty low maintenance when you got him away from the gate and the meaning of life stuff.  When you got right down to it, it didn't take a lot to make Daniel happy.  Just add Jack.

This…was going to work. 

"Feel like starting your Sunday with a swim?  I didn't get up off my lazy ass yesterday like I was supposed to and I'm feeling it today," he confided with a rueful grin.  "Maryanne will kill me if I mess with her rehab schedule."

"A swim?"

"Academy pool.  We can swing by the mall on the way, you can grab some Speedos in Sears."

Daniel figured out it was a cheap, no strings way for them to get almost completely nekkid and check each other out.  Yes to the swim.  There was hope for him yet.

While Daniel rustled up a couple of slices of toast and juice to take the edge off, Jack hit the shower, shaved and dressed.  He was stiff and aching, and not in a good way, but fairly content with his lot.

They were on the road within half an hour.  Daniel left Jack in the jeep while he ran into Chapel Hills Mall and was back after ten minutes with a Sears bag.  He pulled a face when Jack dug in to find something soft, clinging and navy, but not Speedos.

"You can't follow the simplest of instructions," Jack said.

"No way.  Not in a public pool.  Not when I already have to live down whatever joke outfit you've got in there."  Daniel jerked a thumb in the direction of Jack's sport bag, tucked between his feet on the floor of the jeep. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"What is it?  Something Disney?  Finding Nemo?  Some eye-popping tropical thing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

Doubting Daniel maintained his scepticism until Jack was actually in said swim shorts and discovered the elephant in the locker room. 

"I got them online," Jack said proudly.

"Of course," Daniel said, shaking his head over his own stupidity.  "Trunks.  Elephants.  Elephants, trunks."

"They had a pair where the trunk was…"

"Don't even go there!" Daniel interrupted hurriedly.

Jack turned around so Daniel could get the full effect, startling a laugh out of him.

"Okay, okay!  I have to give you points on this one, Jack.  That's a, that's a very cute tail you've got there."

"You too," Jack said, eyeing the soft, clinging navy.  Not Speedos, but not bad.  Not bad at all.  He purred at Daniel's sleek, muscled everything and mouthed a heartfelt thank you to God.  For his part, he'd had too physical a life not to pass muster.  Even with all the years he had on the clock, he was lean, capable, hard where he should be.  He looked good enough Daniel forgot they were in a public, if empty, locker room and took a long, fascinated look.  Good enough he made Daniel blush.

A couple of young turks burst noisily into the locker room and Daniel went out to the pool.  Stripped of his usual swaddling layers, he wouldn't stand scrutiny.  Looking uncomfortable at being so physically exposed in this big, white, and all too public space, he sat on the edge of the pool for a second to brace himself against the first chill before dropping off into the shallow water.  "I'm no Mark Spitz," he warned Jack when he surfaced.

Jack waved his buoyancy board in wry answer before sliding into the pool beside him.  The shock of cold made his knee scream for a second or two, then he gritted his teeth and got moving.  This was therapy, not fun, so he set off water walking, feeling that odd combination of weightlessness and effort to keep his balance and walk, pushing into the water resistance with the smooth, repetitive gait Maryanne demanded.  His pace was about right for Daniel, who breast stroked slowly along beside him, carefully watching every step he took.  Daniel was competent in the water rather than graceful, swimming for relaxation not exercise. 

The layout of the pool, divided into three sections, worked for them.  This early on a Sunday morning, only serious swimmers were present, charging up and down the swimming lanes of the central section.  With no one horsing around in the shallow end near them, Jack finished his twenty minute workout without stopping, then he switched to stretches. 

Daniel snagged the buoyancy board, rolled onto his back and used it as a pillow to help him float.  This, he was good at, drifting easily with the eddies of the pool, his eyes closed.  He scarcely flinched when Jack finished up his stretches and snuck over to splash water in his face.  He splashed back, then kicked out in a lazy backstroke Jack could keep up with.

They didn't have much to say until they were showered, dressed and back in the jeep headed for Cracker Barrel, Jack feeling the burn of a good workout.

"Better?" Daniel asked.

Jack gave him a big thumbs up.

"You're healing quick," Daniel said.  "Your head…if I didn't know exactly where that wound was…"  He tossed a quick, pained smile Jack's way.  "If I hadn't seen you go down like that, if I hadn't believed, just for those few seconds, I'd killed you?"

"Nothing else would've shocked you into opening up to me," Jack said.  "I have daily cause to be thankful."

"I'm not there yet.  I'm a long way from there.  I can't shake that image of you dead on the ground, and you've shaken every other thing I believed about myself.  About us."

"I figured."

"I keep waiting for it to catch up with you, for you to freak out, explode, rail against fate and bad ligaments."

"I can see it catching up with you."

Daniel looked puzzled.

"Me loving you.  And being good with that."

"I'm starting to have an inkling, yeah."

"I'm starting to think seriously about getting a dog.  Maybe from the shelter.  Maybe a rescue dog.  What do you think about that?"

"I think you're on drugs.  I think I should be having what you're having.  This calm, mature thing you have going on is making me nervous."

"Think Zen and the art of seduction."

"I'd feel a lot better if you'd just go off like a landmine, like you're supposed to."

"I'm all about getting off."  Jack petted Daniel's thigh.  "You come to bed with me, I can guarantee explosion."

"I'm thinking about it," Daniel said, bearing up well under the fondling.  "I'm not sure I should even be kissing you until after the third date."

"That's putting out, not kissing.  First date, first base.  Second date, second base.  Third date…" Jack brightened as Daniel pulled into the busy parking lot of the Cracker Barrel.  "For information, this counts as our second date."

"It's breakfast."

"Two guys into each other and seeing each other, eating in a restaurant, that's a date.  Doesn't matter what time of day it is.  That's a date."

Daniel cruised the lot, looking for a space and mentally processing the fact he and Jack were seeing each other.  Or maybe it was that bit about two guys into each other that was on his mind again, because he drove past a couple of spots before Jack recalled his wandering attention.  He kept chewing this over while they were seated in the buzzing restaurant, then looked at the menu like he needed binoculars.

"Earth to Daniel," Jack said, waving a hand in front of Daniel's face.  "You okay there?"

"Thinking about sex.  Having sex with you.  Giving it serious consideration."  This was firmly addressed to the table.

"Get it over with, that your thinking now?" Jack enquired, putting his hand over Daniel's, mostly to stop all the irritating futzing with the rustic cracks in the table.  "Or just wanting to check out my tusks?"

Their waitress cleared her throat and Jack unhurriedly moved his hand away.  In a restaurant this dark and homey, they'd hardly disturb the other patrons unless they had their tongues down each other's throats, but this was Colorado Springs. The guy into guy welcoming vibe at the Prickly Pear was the exception, not the rule.

It was while Jack was ordering he saw Dave Dixon and his family a few tables across and down from them.  Out of earshot, but not line of sight.  Team leader of SG-12, Dixon was Air Force, not some USMC thug, a good guy in Jack's book.  Good guy or not, he looked from Jack to Daniel like they were a puzzle he wasn't sure how to solve, then he busied himself keeping the kids' food on their plates, not the table, chairs or each other.

With his back to them, Daniel hadn’t noticed the family.  Jack chose not to mention it.  If Dixon made something of what he'd seen, it'd be to Jack, not the civilian, and it would not be in front of his family. 

"Getting it over with?" Daniel repeated, reclaiming Jack's attention.  "Partly, I guess.   I've been trying to work out exactly what my hang-up is.  Now I know.  It's you."

"Me?"

"You.  I think I could…oh, thanks," Daniel said to the waitress as she delivered bacon, eggs, pancakes, juice, blueberry muffins and coffee. 

"You think you could what?"

"I think I could sleep with anyone but you," Daniel said.  "I mean, you cannot overestimate the embarrassment factor here.  You can't.  Getting naked?"

"Getting down and dirty?"

"With you!" Daniel said as if that explained everything and Jack should understand everything, attacking his pancakes.

"Why not me?" Jack asked.

"Because it's YOU."

"You remember a while back, you told me I made 'civilian' sound synonymous with 'leper'?  Touché, there, bud.  What exactly is your problem with me?"

"You're you."

"You say that one more time, so help me!" Jack warned.

"I think we need to do it.  We need to go for it."

"Do I look like I'm arguing here?"

"The longer we wait, the more daunting and loaded and potentially humiliating the whole thing will be."

"Still not arguing."

"Tonight, maybe?"

Jack had never been able to fathom Daniel's eccentric thought processes, not even when they were unexpectedly batting for his side.  He had no idea how they got from no to not no, from maybe to now, and he wasn't going to stress it.  "Why wait?  Does it have to be dark?" 

"I...no."

There was something about the expression on Daniel's face that slayed Jack.  Like the guy had never thought about this before.  Of course, he had been married to a traditionally obedient Abydonian girl who hadn't known what lips were for before she was given to him.

"You have any idea if you can actually go through with this?" he asked.

"No."

"I know there's a reason I fell for you, but I don't recall."

"It'll, it'll come to you."

"God, I hope so."

 

 

Jack had no more of a clue what would happen between them when they walked into the house at the end of the day than he'd had when Daniel was blathering about it in the restaurant at the start of it.  Daniel, the man with the plan, made straight for the bedroom.  When Jack followed him in there, he had closed the blinds and was already undressing.

Daniel had a quiet, endearing dignity about him as he stripped, folding his clothes with a care that was quaint in the circumstances.  Naked, he neither bolted nor lingered, but went directly to the bed, put his glasses on the nightstand and got under the covers.  He didn't watch Jack undress, either needing or giving privacy, but turned to him when he got into bed.

They lay on their sides facing each other.  It was, if not actually daunting and loaded and potentially humiliating, difficult.  Jack wished it had happened last night, naturally, not going into it cold like this after a long day they hadn't been able to think about much else.  Going into it so cold, Daniel was burning, shaking with it.  Then he was looking at Jack like he had last night, like Jack was really something.  Like he would give anything.

Jack put his hand on Daniel's waist, shocking him into letting out a jerking breath.  "It's okay," he promised.  "It's me." 

He only had one shot at this, their first time, and he wasn't about to rush it.  He did nothing more than rub Daniel's back comfortingly, his pleasure at this new intimacy encouraging Daniel out of his stage fright and into reciprocating with a slow glide of his palm over Jack's biceps.  He was drawn to Jack's chest, first puzzling over the presence and texture of hair, then resting his hand over Jack's heart.

"It's me," Jack said again, following the curve of Daniel's hip, brushing a thumb over the sharp point of bone while his fingers spread wide, gloating over that fine, tight ass.  Under Daniel's hand, Jack's heart sped.

Daniel looked at him quizzically, then set off exploring, following the central line of his torso down from chest to belly, shaping every muscled contour under his fingertips.  Jack was quick to return this particular favour, ghosting down to rub Daniel soft and low.  A touch further, he had heat in his hand and Daniel whimpering into his shoulder.

"Hey," Jack said gently.  "Looks like I finally got a rise out of you."

"I had no idea.  I didn't know if I could.  If we…what would happen if we…"

Jack hushed the torrent with a kiss, stroking into Daniel's mouth while his hand found an easy, coaxing rhythm on that hardening heat, squeezing slide and release.

"You and me, Daniel."

Daniel remembered him, remembered this was a two-way street, touched Jack where he was hungriest and could hardly believe what he was doing, feeling.  "Oh, my God."

"Just you and me."

Jack fucked that tight, elegant grip on him, his own hand on Daniel never faltering.  No barriers between them, their poor hearts raced, mingled breath stuttered, eyes wide open through the rush of orgasm, Jack looking at Daniel the way he understood Daniel was looking at him.  Like he was everything.

Daniel burned and he was shaking again, past all pretence at distance.  He came to Jack needing, wanting, and Jack was there for him. 

Jack loved him.

 

 

Post-coital Daniel was back in his pyjamas, cross-legged in a corner of Jack's sofa, bolting four cheese pizza and chugging beer to steady his nerves.  Now and then he smiled in a slightly dazed way at Jack, now and then he eyed him as if he couldn't believe where his hand, or Jack's for that matter, had just been.

"How you doing?" Jack asked. 

"Good.  Strange."

"Better than before?"

"Not sure."

Jack ate another slice of pepperoni, considering.  "Freaked in new and unexpected ways, huh?"

"We had sex, Jack.  Sex."

Jack had to give him that one.  "Want to go again some time?"

"Oh, sure."

"Well, that's encouraging."

"What's encouraging to me is that you're fighting every instinct you possess to ask me how many points you scored."

Jack grinned at him.  "Busted."

Daniel grinned back, his eyes bright.  "I can do this, Jack," he confided.  "I didn't know, before. But I'm really starting to want this.  Us."

"So I shouldn't read too much into the fact you're a wreck?"

"Continued exposure should effectively reduce the embarrassment quotient."

"Now, do I go for the maturity points or the cheap laugh on that one?" Jack enquired, teasingly twirling the drawstring of his cut-off sweats.

 

 

Jack's high survived grocery shopping, hitting a large, bustling drugstore for a few intimate care items he sincerely hoped would soon be necessary, a gruelling therapy session with Maryanne, who was not all that impressed with his efforts in the pool Sunday, even a milestone in his bank statement.  His last paycheck.

He mowed his lawn, swept the house for bugs, did laundry, changed the sheets.  Cleared out a drawer for Daniel, opened up space in his closet.  Caught up with the games he hadn't caught up with Sunday.

Tried to have a life, or something like it.  Something that didn't revolve solely around time spent with Daniel.  Or passing time waiting to spend time with Daniel.

The bottom dropped out of that particular delusion when Daniel called to cancel.

"I'm sorry, Jack.  Really.  Cameron -- Colonel Mitchell has been reading the mission reports, he has all these questions, Sam has a date and Teal'c just wants to swat the guy.  Short of 'fessing up I needed time out to make out with my boyfriend, I couldn't get out of it."

Jack heaved a martyred sigh.

"Sorry," Daniel said again.

This was not helping.

"He's new.  He thinks everything we do is cool and he has so much energy it's frightening.  I didn't realise how been there, done that I was until I met our number one fan."

And that didn't help either.

"You used to think I was an enthusiast," Daniel said.  "You have no idea.  I'll make it up to you, Jack, I swear."

Better.

"Not just missing dinner tonight and the, uh...you know, the other stuff.  The hell I put you through.  No wonder you turned grey."

Jack was momentarily diverted.  "New guy really that bad?"

"You remember the time travel thing?  We met Cassandra decades into the future, she said she didn't recognise me with hair?"

"Yep."

"Now I know why."

Jack snorted.

"I will make it up to you."

"With the, uh, other stuff?" Jack hinted broadly.

"Odds are getting better every minute.  Tomorrow night, Jack.  I'll be there.  Oh, God, he's back.  Gotta go!"

And that was that.

Jack wasn't up for sports, he was out of teams, he had no friends unconnected to the life he'd given up, and he was completely into a confused and conscientious guy who would always have to put saving the world first.  All of which left him hanging on the telephone.

God help him, he was going to have to go out and get himself a life.  Or at least a dog.

 

When Jack arrived at the adoption fair at the pet store on Academy Boulevard armed with his application form and a wad of cash, he couldn't shake the sense he was launching into the canine version of speed dating. 

He was confronted by a squad of enthusiastic Humane Society volunteers with powers of persuasion that put time share touts to shame and seven potential canine companions of various genders, breeds, sizes and dispositions. 

His volunteer, a brisk older African-American lady called Billie, reviewed his application, then rubber hosed him on why he wanted to adopt a dog and what he had to offer.  Which he thought was covered in detail in said application. 

"I'm retired," Jack said.  This was on the form.  "I have the time, the energy, the space, the experience and the resources to care for a dog."  That was on the form too.  Both sides.

"You haven't owned a pet for a number of years."

"I retired from the Air Force.  Due to the nature of my postings, I didn't have the time, energy, space or resources to care for a dog.  So I didn't have a dog."

"Do you know what you're looking for in a dog?"

"It's not clear from the application?" 

"You've been very thorough, Mr. O'Neill.  I'm happy to give my personal assurance we don't have any girly purse-dwelling ankle-biters in our care at this time."

"Cool."

"Which, according to your application, narrows our options to either gender, any breed, young/senior, healthy/vet care required, shy/outgoing, trained/training regime required, small/medium/large, need I go on?"

"I love dogs.  I know dogs."

Billie looked at Jack.  Jack looked at Billie. 

"Yes," she said.  "I think you do."  Then she smiled.  "Come meet Brian."

"Brian?" Jack blinked.  "Who calls a dog Brian?"

Billie looked at him again.

"You called the dog Brian."

He followed her over to a large pet carrier.

"He's a little stressed," she said.  Proving she had read his application, she set a folding plastic chair for Jack and opened up the carrier so he and Brian could get acquainted.  "The way to this dog's heart is through his stomach.  He'll lay down his life for a treat.  He's young, maybe two years old, and he's had a hard life with little in the way of food, comfort or shelter.  Smart as a whip, and he doesn't have an aggressive bone in his body."

Jack had to bend over awkwardly to even see Brian, who was plastered against the back of the crate.  The dog looked to be medium sized and smooth coated, about the same colour as peanut butter, slightly darker around his ears and muzzle, with paler chest, belly, paws and tail tip.  This was not an ugly dog.

"Well, if you were perfect, you wouldn't be single," Jack muttered, looking closer.

Billie lent an assist, kneeling down to offer a treat and croon Brian out of his cocoon.  He knew her and trusted her enough to emerge, keeping a wary eye on Jack.  Billie fed him his treat and gave him love, quietly handed several more treats to Jack, then eased back to see what he would do.

Jack laid a few treats on his thigh, put a treat on his palm, closed his hand into a loose fist, then slowly reached out towards Brian.  He was patient when the dog retreated, waiting him out in non-threatening stillness.  He might look big and scary to the dark, patient eyes fixed unwaveringly on him, but he smelled of meaty goodness.  He waited, and waited, until Brian inched forward to sniff his closed fist.  Jack turned and opened his hand with painstaking slowness, letting Brian take the treat he'd earned. 

He waited again while Brian worked out whether he wanted the treats spread out on Jack's leg enough to come get them. He waited until Brian was nosing at his thigh before risking touching him, waited until a treat had been delicately extracted before stroking him.  By the time Brian had chased down the final treat, it was too late to object to the petting.   Not when it felt so goooood.  Brian edged closer, his thin tail wagging a time or two. 

Jack wished Daniel was this easy.

"Application approved," Billie said with calm satisfaction.  "Brian, you can take your owner home now."

Brian couldn't take his owner anywhere until Billie had emptied Jack's wallet and signed his lovely bank account up to the Humane Society monthly donation scheme.  At no point did she act like Jack was taking Brian on the trial basis the application approval committed him to.  This was a done deal.  She sweetened the pot, throwing in the rest of the bag of treats, and held on to Brian while Jack tore up the pet store for supplies.  A good leather collar, leash, water and food bowls, assorted toys, balls, chews and pulls, a roomy plush golden-brown fleece-lined basket, enough food to float an anaconda's boat, several kinds of treats.  This took care of his last paycheck.  He loaded everything into the truck, then went back for Brian.  The dog's ears perked, his tail wagging a little when Jack petted him again. 

Billie gave Brian love, then surrendered him to Jack with hope and real regret.  "He's special, this one, a keeper.  We've been waiting a while for you to come along.  You'll take care of him."  She offered this as a statement of fact, not a question.

"Yes, ma'am," Jack said, using a combination of eats and his magic fingers to coax Brian into the collar, onto the leash and out of the store.  "Brian is a stupid name for a dog," Jack informed him as he put him on the passenger seat of the truck.  Brian caught his scent and was occupied sniffing the upholstery while Jack went around the truck and got himself settled in the driver seat.  "Real leather," Jack said.  "Don't pee on it."  He cracked the window for Brian, who caught on quick and stuck his head out of it.  An old trick for a new dog.

When they got home, Brian hopped out of the truck willingly enough and went to investigate the shrubbery at the front of the house.  Jack must've been o-kay in Brian's book, because he followed him back and forth each trip unloading all his stuff from the truck and was in the house almost before he knew it. 

Ignoring his shrieking knee, Jack got down on the floor, stretched out his legs either side of Brian, made a real fuss of him, petting and stroking until his tail was moving fast enough for take off and he gave Jack a little love back, just a lick to a passing hand, before succumbing to a belly rub.

"I'm a pussy," Jack confided.  "A masochist.  Your basic glutton for punishment.  Everything that takes work in my boyfriend, I just picked out in my dog.  Only a matter of time before you two double-team to whip my bitch ass."

Brian, apparently happy to get with this programme, leaned his warm, slight weight into Jack's thigh.  He fixed his eyes on Jack's face, a liquid, trusting patience that could bore steel.

Jack had seen the same look in Daniel's eyes when he was naked under Jack's hands.

He reached around behind him until he snagged one of the pet store bags, dragged it forward, felt around the contents in search of a toy or a treat.  He came up with a brightly striped ball which he held out for Brian to sniff and lick.  Then he tossed the ball down the steps into the living room.  Brian turned his head to watch the ball bounce, then looked back up at Jack's face.

"You don't feel like going to get that?" Jack said, after a while. 

Brian felt like sitting and staring.

When Jack stroked him, his tail wagged, a slow, increasingly certain sweep of the hardwood floor. 

"You think, if I'm fool enough to throw it away, I can go get my own damn ball back?  That it?" Jack asked.  "You sitting there like butter wouldn't melt, but deep down, you a smart ass?  You gonna make me work for it, like Daniel does?"

Brian's ears perked.

"Think you can get around me that easy?"

Brian licked Jack's chin.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Figuring the only way he was going to get Brian to explore was by taking point, Jack lurched arthritically to his feet, quietly satisfied when Brian, excuse the pun, dogged his heels.

"Velcro dog, huh?"

Brian was uninterested in the living room but snaked under a dining chair to engage in some exploratory sniffing and vacuuming.  He lit up in the kitchen, bounding up onto the counter with impressive kangaroo ease to work over the fruit bowl.

"No!" Jack said, lifting Brian off the counter.  Brian hit the ground running, scampering over the tile to stretch up on his back paws and nose at the sink, tantalised by scents wafting from the agreeably high protein remains of Jack's lunch.  Breakfast.  His solo dinner from the night before.  "This is a man's house," Jack explained.  "Retired does not mean domesticated.  I have better things to do than dishes.  You'll like him.  Trust me.  He's a little crazy, but you'll find him a great conversationalist."

It was true.  Not just Daniel talking to dogs, that was a matter of record.  No.  The other.  Jack was not domesticated.  That was true.  In control of his environment, not controlled by it.  Trained to be in control from his earliest days at the Air Force Academy.  He had a clear objective.  A future.  Seducing Daniel Jackson into his bed, into his life and his home.  Retirement was his choice, his strategy.  All his actions since, the tactics he was using with Daniel -- he was succeeding.  He was his own man, shaping his future.

If the days were endless, endless, he would use the time.  Open up Daniel to him in every way, make himself the centre of Daniel's world.

Precisely as domesticated as he chose to be, Jack didn't wash the dishes.  Not then.  He went into the living room, retrieved the ball, swiped it over the most recently emptied plate, then offered it to Brian.  He let the little guy take a lick or two, swiped the ball over the plate again, took it and his dog out into the yard.  This time, when Jack tossed it, Brian chased the ball.

Tactics, see?

Everything was working out the way Jack meant it to.

Daniel knocked at the door.  He knocked at the door and waited for Jack to open it. 

Jack opened the door with the poised, stately dignity of an English butler.  "We've had sex in my bed," he said.  "You don't feel that makes knocking at my door redundant?"

"I…that is such a loaded question."

"Loaded is how I like 'em." Jack drew Daniel into the house, out of his jacket and away from his omnipresent briefcase.  "You're early," he said, pleased.  Even better, Daniel kissed him and seemed disposed to linger in close proximity.

"Sam took Cameron on a tour of the science facilities and I figured you'd rather I was here working."

"Working?"

"You going to pretend you don't know the score every time this comes up?"

Maybe.

"Couple of hours, tops.  Then dinner."

"Then bed."

"Then…who's this?"

This was Brian the eternal optimist, nosing at Daniel's bag.

"Brian.  Got him from the Humane Society today.  Little guy lives to eat."

"You like chocolate pecan, Brian?" Daniel said, hunkering down to say hello.  He made a paw with one hand and offered it up for approval, while reaching in to rustle about in the bag with the other.  After a few seconds, he came up with a sliver of muffin.  "This is really bad for you," he told Brian.  "Which means it tastes great."

Despite his greed, Brian took the treat delicately from the tips of Daniel's fingers.  In this, he was in a similar headspace to his owner.

"He's so gentle," Daniel said, smiling and rubbing Brian's chest.  He waited for ears to perk and tail to twitch a time or two before taking further liberties.  "You've seen a lot, Brian," he said, looking into those dark, soulful eyes.  "Safe now.  Home now.  Trust me, once Jack gets his hooks in to you, he never lets up."

"Speaking of which, I cleared out a drawer and some closet space for you.  Makes more sense than having to stop off at the apartment every night for a change of underwear."

"You hear that, Brian?" Daniel crooned to a rapidly thawing dog.  "Notice how it's 'the apartment,' not 'home,' implying this, Jack's house, is home."

"Not implying.  Stating flat out I'm here and you should be too."

"This is the other thing you have to watch out for, Brian.  Jack is pushy.  Like a tactical nuke is pushy."

"I'm…clear."

"We've slept together one time," Daniel said, rising up gracefully to get in Jack's face.

Jack grinned encouragingly.  "Yup."

"Aren't we supposed to cover a little more ground before you move me in?"

"Nope."

"That is what you want, isn't it?  For me to move in here?  With you?"

"Yup."

"Do I have any choice in the matter?"

"Nope."

"Do you have any shame?"

"None."

"You see?" Daniel said to Brian.  "See what I mean?  I'll probably come back from a mission to find he's closed out the apartment and moved in all my stuff."

Now that was a good suggestion and Jack was nothing if not adaptable.  "I figured Mitchell could probably use the apartment.  Plus, I've got the space.  I'm thinking one of the guest rooms as an office, maybe an archaeological rec room in the basement."

"My space?"

"I've got plenty."

"My independence?"

"You can do whatever you like so long as you do it with me."

"I knew where this was going," Daniel said, either to himself or to Brian, who was gazing curiously up at them.  "I knew -- I mean, this is Jack! -- deep down, I knew he wouldn't rest until he had everything."

"Right.  We already waved the white flag," Jack said.  "Now we're just negotiating the pace of the occupation."

"Does he scare you too?" Daniel asked Brian, who yawned and slumped, his muzzle on Jack's feet.

Man, perfect timing!

"Dog knows what's good for him.  And you, you may not be as smart as Brian, but you'll come around."

"And fast.  Or you'll move me in."

"Not in question."

A small, reluctant smile was getting the better of Daniel.  He suffered Jack to seal the deal with a kiss, then made a point of setting up his laptop and getting to work at the dining table.  Brian joined him, hopping up onto the chair next to his.  Eyes glued to the screen, Daniel had one hand on the keyboard and one on Brian. 

Jack watched with a certain warm satisfaction, only retreating to the kitchen to start dinner when Daniel -- inevitably -- started talking over his theories with Brian.

All according to plan.

Jack had a ready prepared chicken with plenty of herbs and garlic, adding a stuffing of sage, onion and sausage balls before he set it in the oven to roast.  A tray of sliced and seasoned vegetables would join it after an hour or so, with a deep dish of expensive gourmet mashed potato.  All Jack had to do was whip up some gravy from the chicken stock and serve.  And fend off Brian, who'd materialised to take a keen interest in the oven.

"Patience, grasshopper," Jack advised, nudging Brian away to a less nose-shrivelling distance.  "You'll get yours.  And then, God and Daniel willing, I'll get mine."

He took Brian out into the hallway and introduced him to some more toys.  Brian was willing to sniff everything Jack held out to him but it was like they were just objects to him, no different than any others.  He didn't spark with interest at any of them. 

"Now, I don't believe for a second that nice, scary old lady at the Humane Society never played with you," Jack said.  "Either I don't have the one toy that floats your boat, or you're playing me, bud, holding out for a little dipping in the chicken."

Brian rolled onto his back, offering his belly up for a rub.

"Think I'm a pushover, huh?" Jack asked, obliging with the magic fingers.

"You are a pushover," Daniel said, perching his butt on the low dining room wall.  "A relentless, single-minded, controlling, complacent, armour-plated pushover."

Which meant, according to his favourite critic, Jack was da man.  "You forgot good in bed."

"I forgot egotistical."

"And good in bed.  Also, handsome, charming and funny."

"Conceited, certainly."

"So tell me, Brian.  If I'm all that, and Daniel here is so completely into me, what does that say about him?"

"I wish I knew," Daniel said, looking mournful.  "Every day you're digging me deeper in this relationship.  And what's worse, you've got me helping you shovel."

"I'm blushing."

"You're a smug sonovabitch."

"True.  But I'm your smug sonovabitch."

"So feed me and, uh, you know."

"Rub your belly?"  Jack moseyed on over.

"That."

Jack slid his arms around Daniel.  "I know this comes about as easy to you as cat-loving does to me.  Don't think I don't appreciate the effort."

"Me…too," Daniel confided with a rueful grin, willing hands sliding up to rest at Jack's shoulders.  "I'm finding it difficult to concentrate, and I don't even mind all that much."

"You're the only one that does miss having me around."  Jack was not fishing.  Not…exactly.

"That's not true," Daniel said, willing for once to indulge him.  "Teal'c would not be this pissed if he didn't care about you.  He's waiting for you to break down like you're supposed to and come crawling back.  Cameron -- Colonel Mitchell is trying so hard to live up to your reputation, he's making everyone feel old and jaded, even Walter."

"Chevron guy?  Wow.  The SGC's own Energiser Bunny.  I didn't think anything could knock that guy down."

"You see?  Plus a lot of personnel on base are still thinking you haven't really retired, you've just gone undercover to take out some mysterious earthbound bad guys, and they don't want to mess with your mission by calling around with beer and fruit baskets."

Okay, that one hadn't occurred.

"You've done it before," Daniel reminded him.  "The one's who've checked out the situation, who know you're not coming back, they're asking about you."

"Who's asking about me?"

"Well, Colonel Dixon for one."

"Dixon?" Jack asked, on the alert.

"Ferretti too.  I think they're looking to tap you as childcare.  Ferretti was quite upfront about wanting me to check your availability and Colonel Dixon seems to feel special forces training and combat experience are prerequisites for hanging out with his kids.  Especially the little ones."

Glad he, and more importantly Daniel, weren't having a problem there, Jack relaxed, allowing himself to be flattered and soothed.  Daniel was extremely good at this kind of massage.

"General Hammond scheduled a special trip up to my office today to mention in passing that Tessa and Kayla are missing their Uncle Jack."

"Unlike their Grandpa."

"I don't see you reaching out to touch anyone but me."

"You're saying I need to speculate to accumulate."

"I'm saying don't smack people around with the olive branches they're extending."

More flattery.

"Maybe we could throw a barbecue next time you have downtime," Jack suggested.  "A wake for my long, lamented career."

"You want that beer I was talking about."

"And the fruit."

"We?" Daniel said, brow wrinkling. 

"I'm not talking about any kind of coming out or new couple house-warming party, just beer and a burger, so take that look off your face."

"I'm not panicking," Daniel said, reading -- accurately -- between Jack's lines.

"So much for Doctor Intergalactic Bleeding Heart Trusting Liberal Do-Gooder," Jack said to Brian.

"I don't trust you an inch."

"But you do trust me with the whole nine yards."

Daniel wasn't sure where the metaphor was taking them, but he acknowledged some justice in the claim by yawning and slumping into Jack's chest with pleasing gratitude.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

"Just tired.  Didn't sleep too well last night."

"That's because you weren't sleeping with me."

"And?" Daniel said, sensing Jack wasn't done.

"And because you work too hard when you should be hanging out with me."

Daniel grumbled wordless, contented complaint into Jack's arrogant, self-serving chest, and made no further moves towards his laptop.

This leaning, this letting Jack take the weight, was so good, and so uncomplicated, and so unexpected, they had to order takeout.  Brian was ecstatic to score two whole, perfectly overcooked chicken breasts with sausage meat stuffing, indicating his complete willingness to see off the unroasted vegetables as an encore.  When this generous offer was declined, he had to settle for the remains of Daniel's cannelloni and Jack's Italian meatballs.

While Daniel curled up on the couch with a little light archaeological reading, Jack took Brian out into the yard for a run and a pee, praised him extravagantly for pooping on cue, then tucked him, exhausted and stuffed, into his luxurious basket.

When he got back into the living room, he found Daniel curled up in much the same way as Brian, glasses slipping down his nose, book cuddled to his chest.

A lesser man would have drawn a blanket over his sleeping lover and made other arrangements.  Jack woke Daniel and dragged him, dazed and somewhat confused, to bed. 

In the bedroom, Daniel toed off his shoes and socks, stumbled out of his pants, then, remembering the space Jack had cleared for him in the closet, stood peering at the closet as if it was miles away.  Giving him credit for trying, Jack disposed of the pants.  When he turned around, Daniel had fallen gratefully into the bed still wearing his shirt and underwear.  All those buttons.  When Jack got in beside him, Daniel made a soft, pleased sound, all the day's tension falling away to fuse him to Jack's side.

If emotion tightened Jack's chest momentarily, well, that was his business.

When Daniel came into the kitchen, he looked fabulous in dark, well-worn jeans, a finely striped grey and white shirt, and a sheepish expression. 

"Morning, sunshine," Jack said, sliding over juice and a plate heaped with buttery toast, bacon and eggs. Daniel's chocolate pecan muffins, he reserved for his own pleasure.  "Sleep well?"

Daniel stopped, started to answer, then sighed.  He knew he was in for it.

"Takes talent to go to bed with a guy and still stand him up."

Daniel ate some breakfast and waited for further grievances.

"Takes nerve too, after all the missions we've made it through, the all-nighters you've pulled in the teeth of my standing orders to get your rest."

Daniel ate some more breakfast and tried to look sorry.  Sorrier.

"Gonna take a lot to make this up to me."

Daniel recognised his cue.  "I could, uh, bring over some of my stuff." 

"Enough so you wouldn't have to go back to the apartment for a while."

No point trying to limit with specifics.  One, it made it easier for Jack to milk it until the next mission came along, and two, he had no control at all over when that mission was.  Current situation, new guy for SG-1 to break in and all, he figured he'd secured an attentive, making-it-up-to-him Daniel at least through the end of the week.

Ever the gracious winner, he poured Daniel coffee and let him take a few blissful sips before choosing to point out he was late for work.

"Oh, shit!" Daniel stuck the last three strips of bacon between his teeth and bolted for his briefcase.  He waved a slice of toast in Jack's direction and mouthed something that was either 'love you' or 'fuck you.'

In the right context, either worked. 

Jack finished both their breakfasts, then went out into the hallway to try to coax Brian out of acting like Janet Leigh booked into the Bates Motel.  Brian was plastered to the bottom of his plush basket and obviously double dog daring Jack to do something about it.

"This is normal, so relax," Jack said, reaching in to stroke Brian's flank.  "You might not know it yet, but you're already through the worst of it, just being here.  All you need is some time to come around, figure out I'm not going anyplace and neither are you.  You're not alone anymore.  Now relax and let me do my job.  I take care of everything now." 

Brian remembered Jack's magic fingers and his scent, tongue and tail apparently still in full working order despite the really long scary night and the indignity of being caught fixing his own breakfast. 

"And, yeah.  I know," Jack said.  "I should've sat you and Daniel down together for this talk.  Save having to cover it all twice."

He went into the kitchen to run water into a deep Snapware box, bagged some snacks for both of them, then grabbed Brian's ball and a sturdy rope pull.  When he went back out in the hallway, he was pleased to see Brian's head peep up over the edge of the basket.  "See?  You miss me when I'm gone."  He gave Brian some love, and a treat.  "Let's take a walk."

Brian interpreted this to mean if he stayed in the bottom of his basket looking big eyed and pathetic he'd get more treats with minimal effort on his part.  Admitting to a tactical error there, Jack plucked him from the basket and carried him out to the truck.  Brian remembered the truck. He forgot his woes long enough to stick his head out the window and enjoy himself. 

"We're going to Garden of the Gods," Jack explained, joining the traffic streaming north on the I-25.  "And I wanted to talk to you about sticks.  If they rattle at you, leave 'em alone.  That's one snack that bites back, comprende?"

Born to be wild, Brian gave only the most perfunctory wag of the tail.  He suffered Jack to slowly circle Starbucks in search of caffeine, but went flat with a moan of dismay when Jack parked in the lot at Garden of the Gods.  A drink and a snack did nothing to reconcile him to being a mere pedestrian dog and he pouted along on his leash for five or ten minutes trying to ignore Jack was on the other end of it.

An encounter with a large, friendly chocolate Lab and her large, friendly female owner snapped him out of the sulks.  He got fuss and a treat, and had to man up when Jack tossed his ball and the Lab got there first.  Then it was a mad panting scramble for supremacy he didn't seem to mind losing to an older, stronger, bossier dog.  The Lab showed him exactly what the rope pull was for and he joined in with a will, clamping on so hard Jack could fly him around for a few fur-rippling, windswept seconds that felt as good as the open truck window.  The Lab and her owner went off laughing and Brian played on, dancing delight.

Jack let him tire himself, gave him another drink, and love, then led him on an easy circuitous route of the park, feeling they'd made real progress.  Bouncing along, taking an interest in everything and everyone, Brian agreed Jack was good times.  His best time.  When Jack took a rest on a low wall, Brian settled between his outstretched legs, wanting fuss, resting his head appealingly on Jack's thigh, tail thumping.

There had definitely been worse days.

Jack's good mood lasted. 

He and Brian surveyed his property with an eye to canine exit strategies and decided, between them, the high neighbour fences surrounding on three sides and the dense, prickling vegetation out front bordering the road were adequate.  Complete Brian-proofing, kangaroo genes and all, really only required fitting electronic gates to enclose the driveway.  Then Brian could roam free, or at least as far away from the ready supply of snacks and treats as he was willing to get.

They came back inside to find a message from Daniel on the answering machine.  The earliest he could get here was eight and he was bringing dinner.  Oh, and hey Brian.

Jack rustled up a couple of roast beef sandwiches for lunch, remaining heartless in the face of Brian's concerted efforts to convince him he was one whimper away from starvation.  Then he went down to the basement and put himself through a good, sustained workout while Brian took a well-earned nap.

Jack soaked in the bath for a while, thinking pleasantly about nothing in particular, dressed and looked online for contractors and really cool open-sesame gates.  Obviously, he didn't intend to cramp his style hoofing it out of his truck to open the things manually every time he wanted in or out.  He took his time putting together a short-list of cool gadget-laden gates, then fed Brian the last of the chicken with gravy, some microwave pasta, a couple handfuls of cereals and vegetables left over from the uneaten dinner last night.  Brian had no fault to find with any of this, his tail spinning hard enough for take-off as he chased his bowl over the hallway tile.  Then he trotted into the living room with an honest-to-God toy, a brightly coloured shape that tinkled when he shook it and squeaked when he chewed it.  Confident of his welcome, he invited himself onto the sofa and punctuated the news with vigour.

Inclined to be amused rather than irritated by the noisy accompaniment, Jack bonded some more with Brian, watched the news, and waited for Daniel.  Waited for eight o'clock and that knock on the door.  A minute after eight he called Daniel's cell to complain.  Went straight to voice mail. 

"Sonovabitch," he said to Brian.

Waited five.  Called again.  Went straight to voice mail.

Waited five.  Called Daniel's landline, went straight to the answering machine.

"Sonovagoddamnbitch."

Assuming Daniel had got caught up in something utterly fascinating at the mountain that was going to get him utterly killed when he finally did get home, Jack called Teal'c.  "O'Neill.  You got Daniel with you?"

"Daniel Jackson spoke of his intention to spend the evening with you and left some time ago in order to make the necessary preparations."

Jack…froze.  "He's not here and I can't reach him on his cell or at his house.  I'm going over there."

"Colonel Mitchell and I will apprise General Hammond of the situation and meet you there."

From nought to situation in sixty seconds. 

Jack was not what you'd call objective.  Not about Daniel.  He could be overreacting.

"It could be nothing."

"Where Daniel Jackson is concerned, it is rarely nothing, O'Neill."  Teal'c hung up.

"Thanks," Jack said.  "No, really.  Thanks for that."

Brian jumped up, nosing anxiously at Jack's face.  He withstood a quick, hard hug but got upset when Jack put him in his basket, dropping flat at the stern command to stay.  Chafing at the delay, Jack dutifully freshened Brian's water then limped hurriedly into the bedroom to retrieve his Glock from the nightstand.

He was not the man to panic.  It was a thirty-five minute drive on clear roads to Cimarron Hills, the quiet suburban neighbourhood Daniel had moved to after Oma punched his return ticket from ascension.  The roads weren't clear, but Jack tuned his radio to local news, drove aggressively, fast and safe, prepped for accident reports.

He got a call after ten minutes.

"This is Mitchell," the caller announced.  "Teal'c and I are on the road with a team of SFs.  There are no police reports for Daniel's address or nearby properties, and no accidents involving his vehicle.  I had Walter activate the GPS on his cell, Sir.  If the phone is still in his possession, he's at home."

"My ETA is twenty."

"Ours is thirty.  Sir…"

"Spit it out, Mitchell."

"You need to wait.  You're injured, you're a civilian, and you have no idea what to expect.  I strongly advise you to wait until Teal'c and I can back you up."

"Good job, Mitchell.  You got everything done right and you got it done fast."

"You're not waiting."

"See you in thirty, Mitchell."

 Jack cut the connection.  And drove.  Made it in nineteen to find Daniel's cherry red Jeep parked out front of his house, the barest whisper of heat still warming the engine.  Jack drew his weapon and went to try the front door.  It was open and gave under his hand.  He eased into the narrow hallway with its multitude of doors, taking the bedroom first.  A bag was open on the bed, half-full of folded clothes.  Another armful of clothing was spilled on the floor and that was all.

Jack was not the man to panic.  He channelled emotion, controlled it.  What he was feeling, that did not control him.  He used it.  It fuelled him.  He was alert, processing, entering the kitchen to find Daniel's jacket on the counter, cell in pocket, next to a grocery bag holding a bottle of good red wine, fresh baked bread, ripe grapes and brie.  The promised dinner.  Inside the bag was a receipt from a deli, dated today and time stamped 19:33. 

Jack worked the small, narrow, awkwardly shaped house, methodically clearing each room while something strangled in his chest.  He heard vehicles, doors slamming, purposeful footsteps.  Dragged himself back up the steep flight of stairs that led from Daniel's working area at the back and lower level of the house up to the living space at the front of it, the ground falling away sharply from street level either side.  The deck out back and the mountain view had sold Daniel on the apartment, despite its shortcomings.  He liked to sit out and read with that backdrop. 

"I didn't check the yard yet," Jack warned as he made his way through the swarm of recognisable but oddly dim uniformed SFs in Daniel's hallway.  Teal'c was in the bedroom with another man, Daniel's height but heavier built, brown-haired, blue eyed and handsome.  He could have been Daniel's big brother.

"Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell," the man said.

Jack nodded coolly, at a distance.

"It happened here and it happened fast," Mitchell said, eyeing the fallen clothing.  "No signs of struggle, no indications of violence.  Like Daniel was here one second and gone the next.  Had to have been beamed up, right?"

It seemed the night for redundant questions, redundant actions.  Like Teal'c closing the bedroom door after the archaeologist had bolted.

"You need to sit down, Sir," Mitchell said, partly a kindness, partly…not.

Jack sat on the end of the bed and let them double-team him just to make it go faster. 

"Teal'c has a theory," Mitchell said.

"Has Daniel Jackson spoken to you of his dreams?" Teal'c asked.

"Dreams?"  It was out before Jack could prevent it, his brows cracking in a scowl, his stupid admission of ignorance grounds for exclusion; limiting, maybe ending his usefulness to the investigation right there if Mitchell chose to make something of it. 

"Dreams of his prior relationship with Sarah Gardner," Teal'c said.

No.  There had been no talk of dreams.  Not to Jack.  No talk of old girlfriends, of old, failed relationships, not when Daniel was so unsure of his limits in this new one they were building.

"Daniel Jackson spoke of his dreams to me," Teal'c said.  "He spoke of details, of incidents that were not as he recalled them.  In the dreams, Sarah Gardner presented him with an Ancient tablet, perhaps a symbol of his search for the Lost City."

"Or maybe not a symbol at all," Mitchell said.  "Maybe a literal clue to its location, one only Daniel can translate."

"It's not Sarah in Daniel's dreams," Jack said.  Very precise.  Very cold.  "It's Osiris."

"Osiris," Teal'c said at the same time, annoyed Jack had stolen his punchline.  "Anubis once probed Thor's mind and in doing so would have gained access to certain Asgard beaming technology."

"It looks like Daniel simply vanished from the face of the Earth because that's exactly what happened," Mitchell said.

"The investigation."  Jack uncoiled from the bed to look in the eye two men he could neither order nor intimidate.  Injured and a civilian and in love, he was nothing but a liability. "I want in."

"General Hammond is waiting for our report back at the base, Sir," Mitchell said, giving Jack that much.  "I just want to get a canvas of the neighbourhood underway before we head back."  Not much point to it, but Mitchell was thorough.  He went out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"He know about us?" Jack asked Teal'c, nodding towards the bedroom door.  "About Daniel and me?"

"I thought it unwise to conceal the truth of your relationship."

"He doesn't act like it's a problem," Jack said, grudging.

"Perhaps it is not."

"And, either way, it's irrelevant in the circumstances."

"Indeed."

Jack barked out a laugh, startling them both.  "I've missed that," he said.  Missed you, he thought. 

"We will find Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said.  Not a platitude, coming from him.

"Damn straight."

They went out of the house together.  Mitchell was briefing several attentive teams of SFs.  The usual drill.  Grid search, house-to-house, sweeping for rogue Asgard energy signatures.  Daniel was a prized asset, an irreplaceable asset.  Everything would be done.  It was little enough.

Jack got in the back of the SUV and in the dark he let his hands shake. 

Mitchell and Teal'c were with him before he was ready for them, Mitchell taking the wheel with a trained competence Jack recognised and shared.  "Major Carter is on her way back to the SGC," he reported.  "If this is Osiris, if Daniel was beamed away, we're looking for a ship, likely cloaked."

"Nothing to stop Osiris taking Daniel straight to Anubis."

"I disagree, Sir," Mitchell said calmly.  "I'm reading all your mission reports and I have the most objectivity on this.  It's my opinion Osiris will be looking for a win on this one.  He wants to go back to Anubis sure of the Lost City's location, not hoping Anubis can get it out of Daniel for him.  Osiris gets nothing that way.  Look at the subtlety of his approach until now, using Daniel's memories of Sarah Gardner to win his trust and co-operation."

It was Jack.  Jack who got in the way, demanding Daniel's attention and his presence, pulling him out of the apartment.  Out of Osiris's reach.

"The packing," Jack said, his voice strangely thick and clumsy.  "The clothes.  I know you need to ask.  Daniel was coming to my place.  A couple, a few days."

"Osiris was unwilling to wait," Teal'c said, unnecessarily.

Maybe more than that.  Maybe Daniel was so caught up in Jack, it had made the old relationship with Sarah an even tougher sell.

Jack had nothing to say about that.  Not the right time.  Never was a right time, not for him.  He would say it though, say what he had to, when he had to.  Do what he had to in order to stay part of this.  He would not be excluded.

Not a long drive back to base.  Only long enough for Jack to choke over the fact he'd excluded himself.  All his effort at control, his self-congratulation.  He'd been blindsided here and he'd done it to himself.

Back on base, he was a visitor, in Mitchell's charge.  Carter was waiting for them when they cleared the security checkpoints.  Jack thought he saw relief on her face when she first saw him, as if she didn't recall the bitterness of their last meeting, or didn't care.

"Prometheus is launching," she reported to Mitchell as they went into the elevator.

"Any realistic chance of tracking Osiris's ship?" Mitchell asked.

"Honestly?" Carter pulled a face.  "Could be anything from a cargo ship to a mother ship and it has to be cloaked or we'd have detected its approach."

"Goa'uld motherships do not possess cloaking technology," Teal'c said.

"That still leaves cargo ships or alkesh," Carter said.

"At least we have one thing working in our favour," Mitchell said.  "Daniel's on board.  No way he's letting Osiris get between him and that cool Ancient tablet for long."

"You have a point," Jack said as they changed elevators, indifferent to the buzzing speculation of the personnel who were around to catch the prodigal's return.  "Let's face it.  Daniel is far more likely to work with Osiris on deciphering the tablet than he is to work on his escape."

"He may not be aware of the need for escape," Carter said.  "If his memories are being manipulated the way Teal'c believes."

"You think Osiris is keeping him in la-la land?" Jack asked.

"It fits," Carter said.  "I think Osiris needs access to information suppressed in Daniel's subconscious when Oma Desala erased his memories of ascension.  If Anubis's mind probe worked on the subconscious mind, I think they would've snatched Daniel up and used it on him already.  No, I think they're dependent on Daniel's active cooperation and they can't risk that by hurting him."

"Mitchell is thinking along those lines," Jack said.  He felt weird.  Walking, talking and wired.  Functional, superficially at least.  The knot in his chest, that knot of strangling ice, was rising in his throat like bile.  When Mitchell told him Hammond was waiting for Jack in his office, it sounded tinny and distant.  Jack walked in without knocking, picked up the chair he was meant to sit in and smashed it off the office wall, roaring.

"Better?" Hammond asked. 

"You knew this would happen."

"With respect, son, you knew it too."  

"I want in."

"It's not going to happen, Jack.  You don't need me to tell you that.  " 

Strange, but Hammond was not angry.  Maybe at the situation, but not with Jack.  Not any more.  He was closer to sympathetic.  

"What's my position?" Jack asked.

"You can remain here as an observer, or you can go home and wait by your phone."

"You can't be serious."

"What options do you think I have?  I can't pin a star on your shoulder just because you want in."

 

"Daniel needs me."

"He's needed you all along."

Unanswerable.  Unarguable.  Unbearable. 

It was true and it was right.  That was the hell of it.  Jack could not have stayed then and he could not go now.  He had to face the truth of it.  He couldn't make himself the centre of Daniel's world without being part of all of it, without Daniel being able to share all of it.  Jack couldn't protect Daniel, not from the outside looking in.

He'd made the hard decision, the right decision, then.

He made it now.

"That civilian position?"

"The Joint Chiefs and the IOA have taken it under advisement.  The politics of that decision are above my pay grade.  I want you for that position but I cannot guarantee it.  I'm sorry, Jack.  My hands are tied here."

Tied by Jack. 

"Try to remember that you trust these people, son.  Let us do our work and bring our boy home." Hammond went out into the briefing room, where Mitchell, Carter and Teal'c were waiting for them. 

Jack took the empty chair beyond Mitchell, wearing his frustration like a skin.

"What do we know about Dr. Jackson's situation we didn't five minutes ago?" the General asked.

 

 "We're pretty sure we've pieced together the sequence of events," Carter said.  "Daniel had the first dream Wednesday night.  I know that because he spoke to me about it Thursday morning."  She glanced towards stone-faced Jack, thought better of it, and looked as hurriedly away. "He had the dream Thursday night and spoke to both me and Teal'c about it Friday morning.  He had the dream Friday night, then again Monday night, and he had a further conversation with Teal'c about it Tuesday.  He was physically exhausted and concerned how events in the dream were playing out different from reality."

"I regret I did not question Daniel Jackson more closely," Teal'c said.  "I believed him to be influenced by emotion.  We spoke of his failure to save Sarah Gardner..."

"…When it was Osiris and the Ancient tablet we should've been focusing on," Jack said.  We?  It slipped out easily, but Jack had not been a part of this.  He'd cut the ties.  He'd wilfully excluded himself. 

Daniel respected this.  Jack knew the man at least as well as he knew himself, he knew that was at the core of his silence.  Daniel hadn't tried to get Jack to second guess his decision to retire, hadn't run to him with problems.  Tried to protect Jack as best he could, tried to help him make his choices work.

And that might get him killed.

"No one spoke to me about this," Mitchell said, hinting at his own frustrations.  "Like I said, I'm not as close to this as you guys.  First thing that jumped out at me, soon as Teal'c opened up about it, was how many times the Goa'uld had messed with your minds and your memories already."

"The technology didn't work in quite this way," Carter said.  "And, to be fair, you weren't appointed team leader until…"  She realised the futility of this, trailing off into silence.  "I'm sorry.  I was distracted by, by personal issues.  It's no excuse, I know."

"Carter, it's Daniel," Jack said with a sigh.  "No matter how weird, hinky or downright hairy the dreams got, he'd be slipping himself a mickey if he thought he'd get that tablet translated one syllable sooner."

"Oh, I think there's one thing he values higher," Mitchell said with a trace of apology.  "He spent the weekend with you, Sir, and last night, and he planned to spend the next few nights with you too.  That's what forced Osiris's hand."

Woo boy.  Mitchell was direct.  In other circumstances, Jack could have liked that.

"Frankly, in the circumstances, Osiris couldn't have picked a worse time to try to take Daniel on this particular trip down memory lane," Carter said, unconsciously echoing what Jack had been thinking himself.  Maybe her unexpected new relationship, so soon after Jack had let her down so comprehensively, was giving her an insight into the appeal of the present over the pull of the past.  "The changes to events, to Sarah's actions and reactions, were already making him question.  He has to be resisting.  Daniel is very strong minded.  That'll buy us time."

"And if he realises it's Osiris?" Mitchell asked.

"He's a sap," Jack said, prey to bitterness.

"He will indeed attempt to save Sarah Gardner," Teal'c said, interpreting this without difficulty.

"When it's worked so well for him in the past," Jack said.

"Osiris will not hesitate to use his host against Daniel Jackson."

"That's what worries me, big guy," Jack said.

Carter shook her head.  "No.  I have to believe the information Osiris requires is buried in Daniel's subconscious.  If there was any way for him to recall it on the conscious level, Osiris would have used different methods.  Remember, Osiris is a tool of Anubis, who knows a lot more about ascension and advanced Ancient technology than any of us.  If they're doing it this way, then it has to be the only way."

"What's the status of Prometheus?" Hammond asked.

"Orbit established and scanning, Sir," Carter said.

"We have a way to scan for a cloaked ship?" Mitchell asked, in case he'd missed something everyone else knew.

"No," she said.  "Not specifically.  They're scanning for anomalous readings."

"You say that with a straight face, Carter," Jack said.  "What is an anomalous reading, exactly?"

"That's all we've got for now, Sir," Mitchell said, drawing fire away from Carter.  "Maybe we are looking for a needle in a stack of needles, but I know that crew.  They won't give up on Dr. Jackson."

"I know," Jack said.  "That doesn't change the fact the only realistic option we have is to wait for Daniel to wake up and save himself."

"For the record, I hate that plan," Mitchell said.

"Man after my own heart."

"I wish I could do more," Carter said, supremely frustrated.

"How about hitting up your Tok'ra contacts for Intel on Goa'uld cloaking technology?" Mitchell suggested.

"It couldn't hurt," Carter said, looking to Hammond for permission.

"Colonel Mitchell, Teal'c, work up a threat assessment on Osiris," Hammond ordered.

"Sir, about that," Carter said.

It actually took Jack a beat to realise it was Mitchell she was talking to, not him.

"I know you've read the mission reports, but you weren't in Egypt with us when Osiris first revealed himself to have taken Sarah Gardner as a host.  And you weren't in Heimdall's lab when Osiris was torturing me to give up Daniel's location.  You didn't see the look in his eyes when I told him Daniel was dead."

"He blamed Daniel for the death of his queen, right?" Mitchell said.

"Isis, yes.  But it's more than that.  There's something…off…there.  Something that makes my skin crawl.  An intensity.  Osiris didn't believe me when I told him Daniel was dead.  More than that.  He didn't want to believe me."

"When you say feelings…" Hammond said slowly.

"On one level, I know Osiris has a mission to accomplish for Anubis, and nothing should come in the way of that, but on another?" Carter said.

"Something makes your skin crawl," Mitchell said.  "This thing sexual?"

"It could be," Carter admitted unhappily, once again having difficulty looking at Jack.  "At the very least, no Goa'uld has ever been able to mess with Daniel's mind the way Osiris has.  He and Sarah Gardner weren't even that close.  Through that whole mess with Professor Jordan and all those deaths at the Oriental Institute, what struck me?  It wasn't that Osiris was able to impersonate Sarah so much as he, he exceeded her.  Like he studied Daniel in her memories and knew just how to reach him, how to play him where Sarah herself had been ineffectual."

"You think Osiris might hurt Daniel for the hell of it?  Even if it jeopardises the mission for Anubis?" Mitchell asked.

"I think Daniel gets under your skin in a way no one else can.  I think something in Daniel affected and continues to affect Osiris strongly.  What I don't know is what Osiris will do with that."

"We need a way to get up to that ship, Carter," Mitchell said.

"I know, Sir.  Believe me, I know."

Too wise to let SG-1 get mired in negativity, Hammond dismissed them with his thanks and encouragement to do what they could with what little they had.

"O'Neill?" Teal'c waited for Jack to join him and Mitchell.

"I need to talk to Carter," Jack said.

Given the terms they'd parted on the last time they'd talked, Carter was surprised and faintly suspicious, but she was no more capable of leaving Jack to fuck himself up brooding over Daniel than the big guy.  She took Jack and his discreetly trailing SF up to her lab, posted the guard out in the hallway, and waited for Jack to tell her what she was going to do for him.

"Can you get the healing device?" he asked.  "Fix my knee?"

"Why?" she asked simply, her expression unreadable.

"Daniel can't afford the indulgence."

The naked simplicity of it, the unvarnished truth coming from him of all people, got to Carter where nothing else could.  She would help Jack because it might help Daniel.  She gave a quick, tight nod, then left the lab.  The SF stationed to watch Jack moved into the doorway.  Jack paced restlessly, his back to the man.

Not the man to panic, no, but God help him, he was close to it now.  He had been this afraid in his life, stupid for a man who'd lost his son to pretend otherwise.  But …he would not lose Daniel.  It ran through his head.  It kept running through his head.  He would not lose Daniel.

He didn't need to ask why Daniel hadn't told him about the dreams.  Hammond had called it.  Jack had called it.  Knew it in the bones of him, like he knew love.  Daniel looked out for him.  Daniel protected Jack.   Because Daniel was in love with Jack and because he was Jack's friend.  Because it was what Daniel did. 

What he would do for Sarah Gardner.

And then it would get him hurt.

And then it would get him killed.

Jack's eyes burned and he bit at them with the heels of his hands.  He had no time for that.  Daniel had no time.

Jack had to think.  Had to reach Daniel.  Somehow.

Turned it over and over, trying to find an angle, something, anything, he could work.  Like, how had Osiris found Daniel in the first place?  The man didn't have an ad in Yellow Pages.  Sarah Gardner never had security clearance, so Osiris couldn't use his host's knowledge to follow those channels.  He had to have been on the ground.  Had to have been keeping the mountain under surveillance until he'd found Daniel.  Followed him home.

What about when Daniel hadn't come home?  Osiris probably enjoyed being stood up as much as the next girl.  Would he keep beaming into an empty house, risking nosey neighbours, exposure, capture?  Or would he follow Daniel, try to determine how long his absence would be, when or if it would be safe to continue the mission?

In fact, it was hardly safe for Osiris to keep beaming in at will, taking the chance Daniel would be there.  First time Daniel played away, Jack would've taken precautions.

"Sir," Carter said, coming back into the lab carrying a large secure metal case.

"Stop with the sir," he said, impatient.  "Just…stop."  It was irrelevant.  Like Jack. 

"I don't think I can stop," Carter said, snapping open the locks on the case, which held both the healing device and the ribbon device she'd taken from Cimmeria.  "It's how I think of you, and the habit is too ingrained."

Jack sank down onto a stool, watching while she lifted out the healing device and slid the curving metal over the back of her hand, the red oval orb snug in her palm.  These two devices were the ones that had got away from her, the only ones she hadn't taken apart, mute evidence that even her scientific curiosity had limits.  These tore something out of her when she used them, something she had not become reconciled to.  This was not an easy thing he was asking of her.

"Relax, Sam." 

Her name sounded awkward, from him, but she appreciated he was making an effort.

"This is not life and death," he said.  "I limped in here, the worst that can happen, I'll have to limp back out."

"Thinking positive?" Carter half-smiled and closed her eyes, frowning in concentration, as if she was trying to bring something unseen into focus.  In her hand, the orb lit with a golden light she turned on Jack's knee without looking at it.  At least, not with her eyes.  The way she moved the device, stroking light over the joint, she had to be looking at it with her mind's eye.

Braced, Jack expected it to be excruciating, but there was only warmth.  Carter's face twisted and paled.  There was heat then, at the limits of his tolerance, like putting a hand into almost boiling water.  Carter started to sweat and the heat spread from the knee joint along muscle, tendon and bone.  He wondered what she saw or what she felt when she looked at his body through this lens, if there was a wrongness or if it was more specific than that.  Wondered what it took out of her.

Carter's face relaxed and she dropped her hand, breathing hard.

For Jack, there was still only the heat.

He didn't trust the speed of it, or the ease of it, so he slid off the stool and into a deep bend and was on his knees on the floor of her lab without a twinge. 

"Holy crap!" he said, shaken and grateful.  "What is it about this thing that bothers you so much?"

Carter shuddered, turning to put the device back into the case as if she couldn't stand the feel of it on her skin.  As if it were alive.  Her careful hand shook.

Jack rolled to his feet with a grace he hadn't felt in years and crowded her, snagging the real McCoy, the ribbon device, from its spot in the case.

"Sir," Carter protested wearily.

He waited a beat for her to realise she didn't have to take his crap any more and grinned when her face changed from resigned to pissed to fuck you Jack and she took the thing right out of his hands.  Call that his thank you.

"You know the one thing I can't get a handle on here?" he said.  "Logistics."

"Go on," she said.

 "Beaming in and out of Daniel's house is unacceptably risky to start with, but to keep doing it when your target breaks routine?"

"You wouldn't take the risk."

 "I'm hazy on the technicalities, so humour me.  If we wanted to follow someone, we'd bug them, bug their car, bug their house.  We'd get in their lives.  How would Osiris do it?"

"I see where you're going.  You think Osiris used some kind of device to detect Daniel's presence in the house?"

"That."

"It's possible."  She began to pace, turning this over in her mind the way Jack had.  "We know, or at least we're assuming that Osiris is using Asgard beaming technology."

"Make that a definite," Mitchell said, strolling into the lab with Teal'c hard on his heels.  "Neighbour lady saw a bright white light from Daniel's apartment Friday night.  Thought it was a fancy new tanning bed like they have over at the Tan Your Hide salon.  I'm all about plausible deniability, but man."  Mitchell looked into the open security case and took out the ribbon device.

This time, Carter didn't protest.  Jack didn't like it.  To see an interloper, a new guy, casually exerting authority he had reserved exclusively for himself.

"I've read about this," Mitchell said, sliding his hand into the thing, fascinated by its deadly beauty.  "Looks like something you'd wear to a party."

"Only if you were into S&M," Jack said sourly.

"You're thinking we can use this somehow?" Mitchell asked Carter.  "Like beeping your car in a crowded lot?"

Carter started to say something, then broke off, her eyes widening.  "Oh, my God!  It can't be that simple!"

"Why not?" Jack and Mitchell asked at the same time.

"I have seen this device used on many occasions to remotely activate transport rings," Teal'c said.

"I saw Osiris remote activate the transport rings on his ship exactly this way!" Carter said.

"So we use the remote and ring up?" Jack said.

"No.  We beam up!"

"That really does sound too simple," Mitchell said.  "You skipped a few steps on us there, Carter.  Care to fill us in?"

"Colonel O'Neill was just speculating that Osiris had two logistical issues to overcome.  The first was beaming in and out of Daniel's house undetected."

"And untanned," Mitchell muttered.

"The second was beaming in only when Daniel was present.  Now, there's a third issue Colonel O'Neill was just coming to."

"Carter, you only think I know what I'm talking about," Jack reminded her.

She shot him a quick grin.  "Osiris may have Asgard beaming technology, but I'm willing to bet he doesn't have Asgard sensors."

"Because if he had, he could have picked up Daniel anyplace once he'd tagged him," Mitchell guessed.  "He wouldn't have had to wait until Daniel showed up at home."

"Now, Mitchell?" Jack said, feeling a twinge of emotion he shouldn't dignify.  "Mitchell knows what he's talking about."

"Yeah, I think I'm starting to."

"The Goa'uld are scavengers of alien technology," Teal'c said.  "They would most likely interface any Asgard system with their own command device."

"With all the risks of beaming in and out of the 'burbs every night, Osiris would need a guaranteed get out," Mitchell said.

"The way those clothes fell, Daniel had no time to react," Jack said.  "It was in and out.  A blitz attack."

"Which means the ribbon device, used in conjunction with whatever sensor or tracking beacon Osiris planted in Daniel's house, must remotely activate the beaming technology," Carter said.

"Think you can make this gizmo work like it needs to?" Jack asked.

Carter looked him right in the eye.  "Daniel's life depends on it."

The best answer.

 

In Daniel's small bedroom, there was really only one clear space, by his bed.  It was not a four-person space by any stretch of the imagination.

"If this works, I can take one of you with me," Carter said.

"Me," Jack said.

"I should be the one to accompany Major Carter," Teal'c said.

"I'm going," Mitchell said.

All more or less at the same time.

"You don't get to go just because you want to," Jack snapped at Mitchell, the target of opportunity even if he had advocated Jack accompanying them with the general.  "You're team leader of SG-1.  You can use your head, even if this is your first barbecue.  You've never been in a cargo ship or an alkesh, never faced a Goa'uld."

"We've never been in an alkesh either," Carter said to Jack.

"Which means Teal'c should go," Mitchell said reluctantly.  "If you're the only two who make it up there, he's the best shot we have of rescuing Daniel."

To Teal'c, this was self-evident.

"Then I follow," Mitchell said.  "You stay."  He jabbed a finger in Jack's direction.  "You promised General Hammond you'd behave, you're a civilian and you're…"

"Hale and hearty.  Fighting fit," Jack interrupted.

"It's true," Carter said.  "I healed him.  And…we could use his experience."

"Experience says the smaller the ship, the greater the chance of discovery," Jack said, loathe to admit to it.  He wanted to be moving, taking action, helping Daniel, so badly he could taste it. He wanted to be on the ship.  "Going in blind like this…"  He hesitated, because he knew what was right tactically, what was Daniel's best shot, and this really hurt.  "I say you don't risk trying to get the beam to work from up there.  Better we miss the fight than you lose it."

"Unless you run into significant firepower, in which case you'll need the back up," Mitchell said. 

Well, obviously.

"Two teams, then," Mitchell said.  "With one tranquiliser gun per team.  Our objective is to secure Daniel.  Taking Osiris alive is a distant second."

That, Jack couldn't fault.

"Teal'c, put your arms around me," Carter instructed.

Teal'c put one arm around her, folding her into his body.  In the other, his P-90 looked like a kid's toy.  "I am ready."

"I'm not," Carter said, then she held up her hand, concentrating fiercely on the lustrous jewels set into the intricate ribbons of finely engraved metal that gave the device its name.  The jewels lit, emitting the distinctive, insidious sound that meant pain.  Carter paled, but her hand remained steady.

"That's it, doing great," Mitchell crooned, willing her on.

The device screamed, Carter screamed a warning and the light burst, punching out as Jack kicked Mitchell's legs from under him.  They rebounded off the bed, went down with a jarring thud, wall raining down around them.

"Whoa!" Mitchell yelled.  "Nice shootin', Tex!"

"Sorry!" Carter gasped.  "Are you okay?"

Jack pushed Mitchell off and came up spitting dust.

"I know what I did," Carter said hurriedly.  "I know what I'm doing."

"Move it right along, Carter," Jack advised from between clenched teeth.  "That wall was load-bearing."

Carter held up her hand and everyone flinched when the jewels flared.  Without the resistance she had experienced first time.  "I know this," she said, quiet, insistent.  She stared at the ribbon device with the same ferocity of concentration she'd used on Jack earlier.  "I know this."  Maybe she did know it, or maybe Jolinar had known and it had bled through in their blending.  Carter's face suddenly lit, she touched a specific jewel, and white light blazed.  Then she and Teal'c were gone.

Jack and Mitchell started forward, positioning themselves where Carter and Teal'c had been a moment before, waiting, ready.  "Want to ease up on the choke hold there, pal?" Jack asked Mitchell, who was hanging onto him tight enough to share his religion.

"Freeze!" a male voice barked.  A man stepped carefully over the rubble, taking up a good defensive stance, weapon trained on Jack's face.  Pointing, not waving.  Not bad.  "Denver PD!  Drop the weapons!"

"This would be Carter's personal issue," Jack said, in case Mitchell felt like making something of it.

"Drop the weapons!"

"You drop your weapons.  We're with the Air Force," Mitchell said.  "We can't drop our weapons."

"We could if we wanted," Jack said.  "Carter would have beamed us up by now if she intended to."

Denver PD was pissed and scared for Carter, what with the big explosion and her disappearing before his eyes and all, but he had the experience and the smarts to recognise they weren't a real threat.  "What's happening here?" he asked more quietly.  "Where's Sam?"

"That's a matter of national security," Mitchell said.

"And this isn't Denver, so you have no jurisdiction even if it wasn't a matter of national security," Jack added.

"Think we'd better get out from underfoot?" Mitchell asked, looking nervously at the ceiling.  "I'm fairly sure we don't want them beaming in on top of us."

"Beaming?" Denver PD said.  "Like Star Trek Scotty beaming?  A matter of national security?  Riiight.  Tell me what's going on."

"Your tax dollars at work," Jack said.

"Top secret tanning project," Mitchell said.

In time honoured tradition, wordlessly communicated, they melted apart, giving Denver PD two prowling targets to track.

"Carter will be pissed if we shoot him," Jack said.  "I hear she likes this one."

"I hear she likes to kill 'em herself," Mitchell said.

"Ouch," Jack said appreciatively.

Denver PD had a sense of humour.  He knew this joke.  He'd shared this joke.  Carter really did like this one.  Which was why they were slowly backing him out of the ruined bedroom and into position where Mitchell could tranq him.

Then the room blazed with light and Daniel was there.

Daniel was there.

Jack barrelled into him, crushed him, too angry to speak, the warm, yielding weight of Daniel gratefully fused to him.

"Pete?" Carter yelped from miles away.  "What are you doing here?"

"Sam!  What the hell is going on here?  Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"We have captured Osiris," Teal'c announced.  "And his alkesh."

"We've saved Sarah," Daniel said to Jack.

 

"I'm fine," Daniel said, very conscious of Jack's glowering presence at his side.  "I slept through most of it."

From their stations around the briefing table, Jack, Hammond, Carter, Teal'c and Mitchell all looked at him with varying degrees of disbelief.

"I'm sorry you spent all this time thinking I was suffering some sort of Faustian hell of depraved torture," Daniel said.  "But it doesn't change the fact I'm fine.  It's Sarah we need to be concerned about." 

"Were you able to determine the location of the Lost City from the Ancient tablet Osiris presented to you in your dream state, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.

"Unfortunately, no."

"That would explain why Osiris was trying to drill through your skull when we stopped by to pick you up from your play date," Carter said, excusably sarcastic.

Daniel touched the raw spot on his brow reflexively, then whipped his hand away.  "I'm not saying your timing wasn't good."

"Good as in the nick of time.  You were only slightly dead?" Mitchell suggested.

"Can we focus on what's important here?" Daniel said.  "Namely, Sarah?  The Tok'ra will be here to safely remove the symbiote long before those idiots at the NID start getting stupid ideas about taking on the interrogation of Osiris themselves, right?"

"We gather you could care less about Osiris and all the valuable intelligence on Anubis slipping straight through our fingers," Mitchell said.

"You won't get anything out of Osiris," Daniel said, surprised.  "We never get anything out of the Goa'uld."

"And believe me, we've tried," Jack sighed.  "Slippery bastards bone us every time." 

"If I had been permitted to undertake the questioning, we would undoubtedly have obtained the intelligence we sought," Teal'c said.

Jack was astonished he had the nerve.  "Leaving aside that pesky Geneva Convention on the humane treatment of prisoners, the Goa'uld have boned you too!  In point of fact, you've been captured, tortured and brainwashed more often than the rest of us put together."

"If it's any consolation, Colonel," Carter said for Mitchell's benefit.  "The Tok'ra never get anything out of the Goa'uld either.  Or if they do, they don't share it with us."

"Nothing we can do about that," Daniel said, doggedly pursuing his agenda.  "As long as the Tok'ra are the only ones with the technology and expertise to save the innocent hosts."

The look Mitchell shot at him was admiring.  "You've really got this one by the throat," he said.  "You should meet my Grandma.  You two would get along great."

"Sarah Gardner's welfare is a priority," Hammond said.  "Dr. Fraiser is keeping her sedated and comfortable until the Tok'ra delegation arrives for the extraction procedure."  He made eye contact with them all, his expression serious.  "In my opinion, torture is not only morally reprehensible, it is a remarkably poor method of obtaining reliable information.  We have ample evidence that to exist as the fully conscious, yet completely helpless host to a Goa'uld, silent witness to the acts of a creature with the mind of a thousand Hitlers, is a particularly cruel and intimate form of torture.  I will not condone its continuation."

"Thank you, General," Daniel said.

"That said, once Dr. Gardner has been freed and recovered somewhat from her ordeal, I expect her complete cooperation with the comprehensive debriefing Colonel Mitchell will be conducting."

Teal'c took offense at this.

Daniel did too.

"You're a terrible interrogator," Mitchell said, not without sympathy.  "Torture, killing with kindness.  There's a happy medium."

"You're a terrific interrogatee, on the other hand," Jack offered by way of consolation.  "Insufferably arrogant and obstinate."

"Uh, thanks," Daniel said, deciding, on balance, to take this as a compliment even if Jack didn't entirely mean it that way.

"I still can't work out if this thing is for real, or if I'm the victim of some big 'ole new boy hazing," Mitchell said ruefully.  "I've read reports on those training exercises you all run around here."

"It's easy to tell," Daniel said.  "Just take a look at me.  I bounce right back from torture, but I've really been hurt on some of those training exercises." 

Carter dropped her head, grinning fondly.

"Denver PD?" Jack asked.

"Pete," she said, her face softening.  "Detective Pete Shannahan.  Definitely not buying my deep space telemetry cover any more."

"Fill him in," Jack said.

Hammond bristled.  "You are hardly in a position to…"

"I agree," Mitchell said.  "An ordinary cop, an out of town cop at that, with no local resources, who can track SG-1 without any one of us picking up on his tail and then keep his head through all the craziness at Daniel's apartment is an asset we should be exploiting."

Plus…he and Jack had a bet on how long Denver PD would last.  Mitchell's money was on a Martouf, Jack was betting on a Narim.  Unless Denver transferred to Colorado Springs, in which case all bets were off.  Proximity did not lead to longevity, not in Carter's case.  Should have been her first clue about Jack, right there.

"He'd be more useful if he was local," Mitchell said, the picture of innocence trying to fix the bet.  "See if you can get him to transfer in."

"Is that an order?" Carter asked, justifiably suspicious.

"Just a suggestion."  Mitchell had the nerve to grin at Jack.

"I have to admit, the close timing of Dr. Jackson's rescue is troubling," Hammond said.  "Had we been able to cut through local channels, rule out those possibilities, we could have reached him sooner."

"Cut short his nap?" Jack suggested, ignoring Daniel's palpable exhaustion.  And then his indignation.  So it wasn't fair to be taking it out on Daniel for putting him through this.  Jack wasn't feeling fair.  He was feeling pissed, he was feeling useless, he was wrung out with nerves and adrenaline, he wanted to go home and play with his man and his dog, in that order.

"I was trying to translate the Ancient tablet," Daniel said, trying for dignity on the napping thing.

"You worked out you were dealing with Osiris, not your memories of Sarah?" Carter asked. 

"When he started to ribbon me, certainly."

"The information Osiris was looking for wasn't buried in your subconscious after all?" Carter said.

"I don't think so.  I realised that in the dream.  There were a couple of passages in the table I couldn't translate."

"Transcribe what you remember of the tablet's contents while they're still fresh," Hammond suggested.

"Already did," Mitchell said.

"Right there in the bedroom," Jack added.

"It was more like the hallway at that point, after your impromptu remodelling," Daniel said.  "There's so much dust in the air, I'm worried the filters on my fish tank are going to clog and they'll suffocate."

Carter blushed.

"I sent out some combat engineers to take care of that," Mitchell said.  "And the, er, the roof."

"The roof?" Daniel's face fell.

"Colonel O'Neill was right.  That wall was load-bearing."

Jack usually was right.  About most things.  This was why people, namely the people who were Daniel, should listen to him.

"What's your cover on that whole explosion thing, by the way?" he asked.

"Daniel's fancy new state of the art tanning bed," Mitchell said, miming a 'kaboom!' between his hands.

"Tanning bed?" Daniel asked, faintly bewildered.

"Don't get him started," Jack advised.

"All things considered, I'm writing this one up as a win," Hammond said with a smile.  "Dr. Jackson is safe, there's the potential to translate those missing passages from the Ancient table at some point in the future as well as to obtain valuable intelligence on Anubis, an innocent woman has been rescued, a Goa'uld system lord captured, and we have an alkesh bomber to backwards engineer. A good night's work, people."  He got to his feet, ending the meeting on a high note.  "Now, you all need rest."

"Sir, about Pete?" Carter asked, all hopeful around the edges.

"I trust your judgement, Major," Hammond said, choosing to indulge her.  "Disclosure may be in our interests in this case."

She didn't go out at a run.  Not quite.

"The man is doomed," Mitchell said happily.  He clapped Teal'c on the shoulder.  "Hungry, big guy?"

Teal'c made a subterranean sound of displeasure.

Ignoring, or maybe not caring where he was, Daniel smiled tiredly at Jack, his bold front crumbling.  "You'll stay?"

The right thing to say, the only thing Jack wanted to hear from him.

"Sarah?" he said.

"I want to help her.  I do.   For now, I need to sleep.  I need you to stay."  Daniel pushed off from the briefing table, wasn't sure his legs would hold, and stood wavering slightly.  "Please, Jack."

Where else was Jack going to be? 

"Hungry," Daniel said to the SF assigned to guard Jack as they passed him.  He mimed drinking a cup of coffee.  "Quarters.  Thank you."

"Make that electrolyte replacement fluid, not coffee," Jack said to the SF.  Then he saw Daniel was walking along with his eyes closed and gave his full attention to steering.  The guard helpfully took care of the elevator and opened the door to Daniel's quarters with his security card, then closed it behind them with the promise of food while Jack walked Daniel over to the bed.

Daniel collapsed, burrowing blindly over the blankets until his head hit pillow.  "Jack."  His hand fumbled across to pat the other pillow.  Now, Jack.  "Please."

This unapologetic need, this demand to have Jack with him, nothing could have disarmed Jack quicker.  It pushed all his buttons and dropped him on the bed in a heartbeat, his carefully calibrated rant forgotten.  "I've got you," he said softly.

"Oh, God, Jack," Daniel moaned gratefully, sliding straight into Jack's arms.  "I'm getting to like this.  Being in a bed someplace with you."

"Never imagined it'd be this place."

Daniel kissed Jack sleepily, lovingly.  "Have to be your place then.  Mine fell down."

Jack was so holding him to that.

Daniel was holding on to him, head on his shoulder, arm across his chest, a foot curled around Jack's ankles.  He sighed blissfully and let go, easy as that, letting Jack take care of him, his unstinting trust cracking at the ice in Jack's chest.  Jack needed exactly this.  Daniel safe and whole, wanting him, wanting to be in his arms. 

 Jack wasn't ready to sleep.  Too much on his mind.  Reality had bitten a little too hard and he didn't know where it was going to take him.  He could intellectualise Daniel putting himself in harm's way, he could trust to Daniel's resourcefulness, trust to SG-1.  He just didn't seem able to trust himself.  Running to Hammond every time Daniel got into a little bit of trouble was going to get real old, real fast. 

Realistically, if he came back to the SGC, he'd hardly be able to do more for Daniel than he had done tonight.  Watch and wait.  May as well have been home by his phone.

Only, that wasn't quite true, was it? 

Carter had saved Daniel running with Jack's idea.

If he hadn't forced his way in, he thought Daniel would have died tonight.

If he was a part of all this again, Daniel would be talking to him.  Trusting to him, not trying to look out for him.

It was what it was.  Jack was who he was.

He kissed Daniel's brow and left him sleeping to go see Hammond.

"You got a minute?" he asked.

Hammond pointed to a chair.

Jack sat and took a deep breath.  "Can you get me that star?"

Hammond sat back in his chair, quiet and watchful.  "Why?"

"Honest answer?  You need me.  And…"

Hammond waited.

"I need this."  Jack looked down at his hands, fingers spread wide on his thighs to stop them clenching.  "I thought I did the right thing, the honourable thing, in walking away.  It was -- it turned out to be the selfish thing."

"And your relationship with Dr. Jackson?"

"Continues.  He needs it, needs me, more than I ever realised."

Hammond raised a sceptical brow.

"I…need it."  God, this was horrible.  "I'm…better…" 

"The only way for you to return to the military while continuing this relationship would be if it were decriminalised."

"And that's not going to happen," Jack said.

"If you were to accept a civilian position, it would not be in issue."

"I can't do that, General.  One, you can't guarantee me that position and I don't play politics well enough to get it for myself.  Two, it would never work in this command.  You can't have an Executive Officer who isn't an officer and that is exactly what you and the SGC need.  You need help, not oversight.  And no one, military or civilian, would trust the lead of the man second guessing them for an outside agency that's gunning for control."

"You've thought this through."

"Nah, winging it."

"You've surprised me, Jack," Hammond said.  "Again.  I did not expect you to walk back in my office tonight.  Daniel is safe.  There's no longer any need for you to be here, and yet here you are, so I have to conclude that you must want to be here.  That's good enough for me."

Hammond opened a desk drawer and reached into it, pulling out a small black case Jack recognised.  The general didn't say anything, he just held out the case until Jack took it from him.  Jack knew what was in the case, but even when he opened it and saw his general's stars, he couldn't believe it.

"I could not obtain a Presidential dispensation for you to continue a clandestine relationship with Dr. Jackson," Hammond said.  "I could, and did, obtain dispensation for this command to take appropriate disciplinary, not criminal, action in cases of this nature that I believe to be prejudicial to morale, good order and military discipline."

"That's a fine line you're walking there," Jack said, attacking to cover for this shock of gratitude and relief.  He was no longer in the wrong.  It sounded a small thing, but it wasn't.  Not to him.  He was military and it meant the world.

"As are you.  In your case, you have disclosed your relationship to your commanding officer.  I saw nothing in your conduct tonight to suggest to me your personal feelings are in any way prejudicial to this command or to your authority.  Believe that I will be riding your ass to ensure I never have cause to regret this."

"You can live with this?"

Hammond sighed and sat back in his chair.  "Son, I looked the other way for four years when I thought that burr up your ass was Sam Carter.  Her feelings for you were cause for transfer or disciplinary action half a dozen times or more.  I did nothing because your team worked and this command needs your team.  The things I've seen in this chair, the things I've done, the rules I've broken?  I live with more every day."  He paused and looked thoughtfully at Jack.  "And, you're right.  You are better for it.  Your conduct tonight showed a maturity that gives me some hope for the future of this command."

"Executive Officer, huh?"

"Delegated operational responsibility for security, logistics, intelligence, defence, research and development, mission planning and oversight."

"That's a lot of meetings, a lot of paperwork."  A bureaucratic world of hurt.  And Jack would have to stomach it, excel even.  If he wanted the SGC and Daniel.  The deal was on the table, solid compromise that let them both save face, gave both of them what they wanted.  Or gave Hammond power over Jack in giving him what he wanted and reserving the right to take it away if he fucked up.

"You can live with that," Hammond said, enjoying the prospect.

"I'm a cynic.  I can live with anything."

"I hope you remember that when you're making your gracious acceptance speech at the promotion ceremony tomorrow."

The klaxon sounded for off-world activation and a few seconds later, Hammond got the customary call from the control room.

"The Tok'ra?" Jack asked, sliding his general's stars into his pocket and putting on his game face.  "Want me to get this?"

"You don't want to notify Dr. Jackson of their arrival?"

"Dr. Jackson needs his beauty sleep.  I'll wait this one out for him.  If Sarah makes it through the extraction procedure, she'll be out for hours in recovery.  If she doesn't, I'll make sure he gets to say goodbye."  Jack opened the door to let Hammond precede him down to the gateroom.  "Mitchell, on the other hand, will probably be front row with popcorn.  Quite the robust personality there."

They paused in the control room while the duty gate technician verified the Tok'ra IDC and Hammond issued the order to open the iris.

"Want to know what's ironic here?" Jack said.  "I've limped through missions for more than a decade and Carter finally fixes my knee the day I chain myself to a desk."  He felt a calm sense of what he could only describe as rightness when a galvanised technician made it to the back wall phone and his prodigal return hit the SGC rumour mill before the Tok'ra hit the ramp.

Jack followed Hammond down to the gateroom to say hi, unenthused but not overtly offensive.  These three were new faces, never boned him personally.

"I'm Major General Hammond, leader of this facility, and this is Brigadier General O'Neill, my Executive Officer."

Jack glanced around interestedly, just quick enough to catch the same technician making another run for the phone.

 

"Your capture of Osiris is a significant achievement in the war against Anubis, General Hammond," the lead Tok'ra said. 

"It was nothing," Jack said modestly.

"General O'Neill was instrumental in the capture and will be personally overseeing the extraction procedure," Hammond said.

The lead Tok'ra mistakenly took this is a compliment.  "I am Solen," he said.  "And these are my assistants Lote and Dal."

"We want the girl to live," Jack said.  "Just so we're clear."

 

"We will do everything in our power to save the life of the host."

"Yes," Jack said.  "You will." 

He led the delegation out of the gateroom, then realised he couldn't take them anywhere because he didn't have security clearance.  Couldn't take the stairs, let alone the elevator.  Then a puffing SF, the one who'd been shadowing him since Mitchell brought him on base, marched briskly across his path, sticking a hot-off-the-press security card into his hand without even slowing down.  Slick as snot.  Jack and the Tok'ra got onto the elevator, stood around awkwardly not making small talk in it, and when they got off of it, Teal'c was waiting.

"General O'Neill," he said, with a slight bow that had 'what took you so long' stamped all over it.  He also bowed to the Tok'ra, but with massively greater dignity and gravitas.  "Let this be the first of many victories in the war that eliminates Anubis and the Goa'uld System Lords forever."

"Nice," Jack said, wondering if he'd found his speech writer.

"Dr. Fraiser and her medical team are awaiting your arrival," Teal'c said.

"Lead on," Jack said.

Fraiser and her team were set up in the largest O.R. and greeted the arrival of the Tok'ra in much the same way as Jack.  Unenthusiastic but not overtly offensive.  Fraiser immediately made plain her advocacy for Sarah Gardner.  She was man enough to fight her own corner, so Jack left her to it, strolling around to get himself a good seat in the viewing gallery. 

"Any idea how disgusting this is going to be?" he asked Teal'c, who didn't seem to have anyplace better to be just then.  "I'm starved.  Going to need all my strength when Daniel finally wakes up and finds out I did all this without him."

Teal'c smirked appreciatively.

They sat and watched the intense medical preparations for a while.  The turf war between the human and the Tok'ra medical teams looked a lot like WWF Smackdown to Jack.

"Think I should promote Fraiser?" he asked idly.

"Indeed."

"I have all this power now, you know."

"Ensure you utilise it wisely."

"Get us a couple of sandwiches?"

Teal'c inclined his head gracefully.  He could eat.

Jack made the call to the commissary.  Then he had a thought, called the duty security chief and requested the presence of that helpful SF for a special top secret mission.

He sat down next to Teal'c and they watched some more intense medical preparations for a while.  Neither of the warring factions took casualties or gave an inch.  Jack presumed they'd start the extraction when they accepted it was stalemate on the turf war.

"Slip Mitchell a mickey?" he asked.

Teal'c…growled.

"Not doing it for you?  Seems…okay…to me."

"That is because Colonel Mitchell is a great deal like you."

The helpful SF arrived, balancing a heaped tray of meaty sandwiches, sodas and a mound of fresh fruit.  Jack gave the SF his keys and asked him to go feed Brian, give him a run, then fetch him, his basket, and squeaky toy, back here.  After a moment, he remembered to tell the SF to make sure he let the dog stick his head out the car window.

"I do not believe General Hammond would approve the presence of a canine on base," Teal'c said.

Jack didn't seriously intend to keep Brian on base.  He just couldn't leave him alone.  He'd arrange for a dog sitting service soon as he could.  He planned to have some fun with it until then.  It wouldn't do for people to get complacent, take him for granted.  "Hammond let Daniel have fish."

"They are not disruptive."

"And I'll be less disruptive."

Teal'c seemed to feel there was some justice in that.

"Figured I could walk him on the Alpha Site," Jack said, his lips twitching.  Play fetch through the Stargate.

"Perhaps a treadmill in the gymnasium."

"I like it!"

They ate their sandwiches while the Tok'ra aimed something that resembled a laser pointer at Sarah Gardner's head.

"Any idea how they get the snake out of the head and into the jar?" Jack asked.

"I do not know."

"That laser thingy cutting?  Beaming?"

"I do not know." 

This appeared to end the medical portion of the discussion.

"Hammond told me you and Daniel helped select Mitchell," Jack said.

Teal'c let out another of those low, displeased rumbles.

"Something specific bothering you?"

"Colonel Mitchell feels the team that plays together, stays together.  To that end, he has devised a program of competitive sporting activities and divided SG-1 into two teams which he attempted to describe humorously as 'the geeks' and 'the guys.'  Major Carter and Daniel Jackson were offended on a number of levels."

"Need to temper some of that enthusiasm, huh?"

Jack had the inklings of an idea to do just that.  He'd have to talk to Hammond.

"Will you be accompanying SG-1 on our missions?" Teal'c asked a while later.

"Hammond would string me up by my balls if I pulled that one, T.  My relationship with Daniel -- I have to be careful.  Play nice or risk getting kicked out of the sandbox."

"I see.  Then…I for one will miss you."

Jack sighed.  He knew how Teal'c felt.  Teal'c knew how he felt.  Enough said.

"We'll all be better off if I get to keep the dog.  It's not like we don't have dogs on base already.  I just thought of that.  The SFs have a canine unit.  Tracker dogs for escaping aliens."

"Is your canine similarly equipped?"

"If the aliens stopped to pick up snacks on the way out.  Little guy packs away almost as much as you do."

This in no way deterred Teal'c from taking the last piece of fruit.

"I heard you took your share -- and mine -- of Kinsey's generosity on the occasion of my shooting."

"An inferior offering with insufficient pineapple."

"Daniel said."  Jack had to ask.  Because God knew, Daniel was Clammy McClam even when he was sleeping with a guy.  "How's he been?  Daniel, I mean, not Kinsey."

"Confused."

Jack took this on the chin.  Nothing he hadn't worked out for himself.  This thing they had going on was not the stuff of Harlequin romance.  At least with his knee fixed and Daniel presumably able to stay awake for ten minutes, they might get to have sex.  Something.

"You are no longer angry at Daniel Jackson for being captured by Osiris."

Jack shrugged.  "I wasn't angry at Daniel per se."

Teal'c raised a sceptical brow.

"Okay, I was mad.  At least give me credit for kicking my own ass for being totally unreasonable."

The SF arrived with a slightly bewildered Brian on a leash.  He spotted Jack and perked right up, running over to bounce up at him excitedly.

"Hey, boy!" Jack crooned, scooping him up.

"I put his things in your office, General," the SF said, very amused.

"Thanks."  Jack half-heartedly fended off some frenzied licking.  "I have an office?"

"Around the corner to General Hammond, Sir."

"Huh."

"Will that be all, Sir?"

"Did I remember to ask for his water bowl?"

"I thought to bring it along.  And you'll need these."  The SF handed over the keys to Jack's house and the keys to his truck.

"You'll go far," Jack said.

"Thank you, Sir.  Oh, and Sir?  The latest from the combat engineers at Dr. Jackson's house?"

"Yes?"

"Everyone made it out okay, but part of the roof kind of slid off and collapsed the deck out back."

"No!" Jack said, beaming.  Then something in the O.R. caught his eye.  "Hey!  How'd they do that?  When'd they do that?"

The snake was in the jar.

Fraiser looked up from her examination of the seemingly intact and sleeping Sarah Gardner, clearly triumphant.  Then she got eyes on Brian.

Jack waved one of Brian's paws at her.

"I will speak to General Hammond concerning the canine," Teal'c said.

 

"Hey," Jack said when Daniel finally showed signs of life.

"Hey," Daniel said, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed.  He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, sat for a while.  The morning after the ribboning before.

"Sarah Gardner is resting comfortably and Osiris is in a jar headed back to Tok'ra central."

"You let me sleep."

Encouraging that Daniel didn't go up like a claymore.

"You were resting comfortably."

Daniel looked up and then he got up.  "You're in uniform."

Recognising Daniel's scent, Brian came over to say hello.  Daniel stooped to stroke him, patient about being sniffed and having to rub Brian's belly.  Then he straightened, reaching out to finger the embroidered grey star on Jack's collar.

"You wanted me to stay," Jack said.  "I realise…I needed to."

"And the military?"

"Hammond squared it away."

Daniel's face lit.  He grabbed Jack's collar in both hands and yanked him into a stinging kiss that was over almost before it began.  "I'm glad," he said.  "I do want you to stay.  Even if it means I have to wait until we're home before I get to do that again.  Give me a minute?"  He ran into the bathroom, splashed water, cleaned his teeth, then came out stripping off his shirt.  He changed into his uniform in about two minutes, carelessly tossing his street clothes.  "Take me to Sarah."

"She'll be out for a while," Jack cautioned.

"I just want to see her." 

Daniel was bright, energised.  This was a good day.  A rare day.  Things were working out for him.  If he didn't truly trust the feeling, he was rolling with it for now.

When they reached the infirmary, Jack handed off Brian's leash to a surprised SF and gave him his squeaky toy.

"You serious about keeping Brian here?" Daniel asked.

"Nah, probably a day or two until I can get a dog sitter for him.  Figured I'd milk it for all it was worth in the meantime, though."

"You could walk him on the Alpha Site," Daniel said with a grin.  His mind worked in all Jack's favourite ways when he allowed it to.  "It might not be as much of a stretch as you think to keep Brian with you, you know.  The canine unit have exercise runs on the surface, kennels down here, a full training programme.  And, with all the paperwork and meetings I'm guessing you have in your future, I think the whole base will quickly come to appreciate the calming influence he has on you."

Jack loved it.  Hammond would not.

"I didn't exactly plan for all this to happen when I adopted Brian," he said.  "You think it's selfish to hang on to him?"

"I think it would be selfish not to make the adjustments you need to in order to keep Brian.  He trusts you, he loves you and he needs you.  He's thriving.  And…" Daniel hesitated, a gentle, humorously introspective look on his face.

"And?" Jack prompted, liking this look.

"I think I'd miss him if weren't around."

"You're telling me what I want to hear."

"Doesn't mean it's not true.  Hi, Janet," Daniel said, sure of his welcome in Fraiser's office.  "How's Sarah?  Can I see her?"

"Resting comfortably," Fraiser said.

Jack nudged Daniel.  "See?"  Daniel should listen to him.

"And yes, you can see her, Daniel," Fraiser said.  "I think she'll be awake before too much longer and after the trauma she's endured, she'll need the reassurance of a face she knows.  The psychiatric team are standing by to assess her mental state, but for now I want her to rest and talk with Daniel if she feels up to it."

"You'll be okay for this afternoon?" Jack asked her.

Fraiser's smile was indulgent.  "The promotion ceremony?  Wouldn't miss it."

"Do I have to be there?"

"Yes, Daniel."

Daniel was ready to argue this, but Fraiser beat him to the punch.

"Sarah needs to rest and heal, Daniel.  To begin to process what she's been through.  It's possible she may not want to talk much even to you, at least at the beginning.  We're going to have to be patient.  Let her lead us on this."

Yeah.  Because Daniel, and Jack, were really noted for that.

"Thought I'd find you here," Mitchell said, tapping on Fraiser's open door before he walked into her office.  "Doctor," he said, oozing manly charm at her.  "Just came to check on Daniel after the excitement last night.  And to congratulate you, General."

"Perfect timing, Colonel. I'm about to conduct an examination of Dr. Jackson and General O'Neill," Fraiser said.

"Me?" Jack said.  "Why me?"

"I'm fine," Daniel said.

"You should check Daniel's blood pressure before I tell him about his house," Mitchell said with a grin.

"My house?  I know about my house."

Mitchell patted Daniel's shoulder, a gesture of solidarity and commiseration.

"What don't I know about my house?"

"The roof fell off and the back wall is now in the back yard."

"That wall Carter blew out was load-bearing.  I said at the time," Jack told Fraiser.

"It's the gradient on your property, Daniel," Mitchell said.  "It's such a steep drop from front to back that when the roof went and took the deck with it, the whole structure destabilised.  Don't worry," he added, offering Daniel a bracing smack on the back. "Your fish are fine and I've got the combat engineers working to stabilise what's left so retrieval operations can get underway for your artefacts and stuff."

Words failed Daniel.

This was not the proper frame of mind in which to resist Fraiser's ministrations, so she got to add insult to injury before Daniel was finally allowed into Sarah's private room, sipping distastefully at the electrolyte replacement fluid Jack had prescribed earlier.

Then Fraiser turned her attention to Jack.  "Sam was busy last night.  Let me take a look at that knee."

"I'm a general now, you know."

"Congratulations," Fraiser said warmly.  "Knee."

He backed up, sat down, rolled up his pants leg, offered up the sacrificial limb, endured an examination that edged towards destruct testing, and was briskly ordered to report to the gym for intensive joint stress and tolerance tests at Fraiser's convenience. 

Jack asked if she knew Maryanne.

He was healed, though, and it was only a matter of time until she had to admit to it.  He'd won this one and could afford to be the gracious winner.

He also had the satisfaction of Mitchell materialising again to ask Fraiser when she thought he could start debriefing Sarah Gardner, proving only fools rushed in where SG-1 feared to tread. Jack walked away grinning, Fraiser's considered medical opinion ringing in his ears.

Daniel was sitting on the bed by Sarah's side.  As Jack walked in, she came to with a violent start.

"It's alright.  You're safe," Daniel said, reassuring with his voice and a gentle touch.

"Daniel?" Sarah said, struggling to sit.

"I'm here.  It's all over," Daniel said as she put her arms around him.  "You're free."  He held her close, safe, as she started to cry.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered.

"Ssshh," Daniel soothed.  "It's not your fault."

"I couldn't stop it."

"We're going to get you through this," Daniel promised, stroking her back.

She clung to him, shaking pitiably, something dark and unreadable haunting her eyes.

Jack leaned against the wall, watchful but not intruding, letting Daniel help her through the first shock.  Sarah was, he had to admit, beautiful.  Model slim, fine boned, pale skin contrasting with her tumbling red-gold curls.  She could turn heads in any crowd.  And yet, she hadn't been able to hold Daniel's attention, hadn't been able to compete with his research.  Like Sha'uri.

He didn't see her as a threat, or rather he dismissed her as a threat to his relationship with Daniel.  She was a curiosity to him, throwing his singular appeal to Daniel into sharp relief.  Daniel would do what he could for her, that went without saying, but Jack was willing to see where it took them.  He wouldn't be dancing a jig if it kept her here, another stray for Daniel's department.  But he thought it might.  She looked fragile to his eyes.

"O'Neill?" she said hesitantly.  "I…remember…the…the Asgard Thor.  Torturing him.  Hurting you," she added, to Daniel.  "You…died…Daniel.  You were dead.  The woman, the blonde woman, Samantha Carter, she said you were dead.  I didn't believe it.  I couldn't…and then…I understood.  About ascension."

Looked as if Mitchell's debriefing wouldn't prove to be a complete waste of time.

"You ascended, Daniel," Sarah said, putting a wondering hand on Daniel's handsome, supportive face.  "You.  Amazing."

"Anubis and Osiris certainly seemed to think so," Jack said despite his good intentions.

Sarah flinched as if he'd slapped her, falling away from Daniel to put trembling hands over her face.

Daniel flayed Jack silently, then went back to the stroking and the soothing.

"Sorry," Jack said.  "But I'm trying to help you.  You're not the first host we've rescued.  Believe me when I tell you the only one who thinks you're responsible for what Osiris did while he was using you as transportation is you.  No one blames you, no one, and you should not be blaming yourself.  Don't talk like you're the one who did those things you're remembering.  Just…don't.  It's not healthy and it's not right.  You were a witness, you were capable of nothing more.  I should know.  I've been there myself." 

And that was about as much as Jack had said to anyone.  About anything.  Ever.

Sarah lowered her hands to look searchingly, hopefully at Jack, but was unable to find a way to respond to this.

"It's true, Sarah," Daniel said.  "What Jack went through, what you've been through, no one should have to live through that.  But you're not the first and you're not alone.  Trust yourself, trust that we can help you."

"Transportation?" Sarah said to Jack.

"It's not a rationalisation.  It's a literal fact."

"I want to believe that so much."

"You already know it for a fact," Jack said.  "You already said to Daniel you couldn't stop it.  All the wishing in the world won't change the fact you couldn't."

Sarah nodded, tears slipping.  She wanted to forgive herself so badly, but she wasn't there yet.  "I need to think," she said.  "There's so much…I can't…"

"Want me to go?" Daniel asked.  "Let you rest for a little while?"

"The last thing I saw…the last I felt…before waking here…was Osiris killing you."

"I'm fine, I'm here."

Fraiser appeared at the open door, saw her patient reduced to tears by her clueless male visitors, and the sisterhood came straight to Sarah's aid.  "I'm Dr. Fraiser," she said.  "I'll be taking care of you.  Now, I think you need to rest."  She gently urged Sarah back down to her pillows and tucked her under the covers.  "Don't be afraid to cry, Sarah" she advised compassionately.   A tone she never used on Jack.  "Your body has been out of your control for so long, you need to listen to it now.  This, what you're feeling, this is natural.  You're not losing control, you're getting it back."  She looked significantly at Daniel, at Jack, at the door.

"I'll be back when you're ready," Daniel said, touching Sarah's hand.  "Any time.  Janet knows how to reach me."

"Thank you," Sarah said.  "Both of you."

"You were good with Sarah," Daniel said when they were out of earshot.  "I was worried at first, but you handled it really well."

"Surprised?"

"Pleasantly."

"I'm happy you saved your beautiful ex."

"Are you?"

"Kinda."

Encouragingly, Daniel didn't get on his case about this.

"Sorry your house fell down," Jack said.

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not."

"Okay if I stay with you for a while?"

"For a while, sure."

"You already told those combat engineers to send my stuff over to your place, didn't you?"

"Yup."

Daniel didn't ask if it was wise or safe or discreet, if Jack was okay about it or happy about it or sure about it.  Which was Daniel's way of saying he wasn't particularly intending to move back out.

Brian was ignoring his squeaky toy in favour of pouncing the SF's bootlaces with lots of mock growling.  The SF handed Jack the leash and the squeaky toy, remaining very properly at attention while Jack peeled Brian off.

"Feel like breakfast?" Jack asked.

Brian could eat.

Grinning, Daniel reached down to pat Brian's head.  "He has a good vocabulary."

"Sure.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper, hungry, sandwich, snack, treat."

"It's good you have things in common."

"Think I have sufficient pull to sneak him into the commissary?"

"As…what?  Hammond's second in command?"

Jack nodded.  "Executive Officer."

"You probably have sufficient pull to get three breakfasts sent to your best friend's lab."

"You, me, Brian?"

"Four breakfasts then."

"Think I made the right choice?"  Jack fingered the star on his collar.

"Nobody knows how this place should be run better than you."

"Thank you," Jack said, shocked.  In a good way. 

"With a little guidance from your friends and advisors, of course."

Yup.  That was the other shoe dropping.

"I like the promotion, the paycheck and the parking space, but I don't really want to be in charge of anything.  No."

"I think all those things kind of go together."

"I've spent my whole life sticking it to the man.  Now I'm the man.  I have good and sufficient reasons to take the job, and I'm trying to be pragmatic and realistic about it all, but I'm not sure I can be the man."

"I think General Hammond is still the man," Daniel said.  "If I understand the role of Executive Officer correctly, you're the man getting paid to stick it to the man in an official capacity.  It's your job now, not just your enthusiasm."

"A vocation."  That had a certain appeal.

"You know General Hammond will give you a lot of latitude.  Within reason, you'll be able to do whatever you want."

"I'll be able to do whatever I want."

"Within reason," Daniel said again, looking faintly alarmed.

"Got a few ideas already."

 

Jack wasn't late so much as making an entrance, perfectly timed to coincide with the high point of Hammond's short speech.

"It is with great pleasure I introduce you to your new Executive Officer.  Brigadier General Jack O'Neill."

Jack knew all the faces making a path for him through the gateroom, all the people standing to attention. Ferretti, Reynolds, Dave Dixon, Dr. Lee, Felger, even that gate technician, the one who looked like Ronald Regan.  Daniel, Teal'c, Mitchell, Carter and Fraiser were lined up on the ramp's red carpet, singled out, the people he was closest to.  They were smiling, basking in the energy, the good vibes from the crowd when he passed them to join General Hammond and Walter Harriman in front of the Stargate.   

When Jack looked out at the sea of faces, everyone was smiling.  Every one of them looked like they were waiting for this, wanting this.  It made Jack think that as much as he needed this, he was needed.  More moved than he cared to admit, Jack couldn't help but look at one face.  Daniel, gorgeous in his dark grey suit and pale blue-grey shirt.  Beaming, proud like Jack was his own personal creation. 

In measured tones, Harriman took them into tradition, ceremony.  "The President of the United States has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity and abilities of Colonel Jack O'Neill. Colonel Jack O'Neill is promoted to the grade of Brigadier General, United States Air Force."

Hammond removed the birds from Jack's epaulettes and replaced them with a general's star.  He saluted Jack gravely, then Jack saluted him in turn, applause crashing through the gateroom.  Then Jack raised his right hand and Hammond took him the rest of the way, believing the integrity of his oath of service.  Allowing Jack to believe it.

"At ease," Jack said, taking the podium.  "You all know how much I love speeches, so I'll make this short.  I wish I could say I didn't owe anything to anyone. But the truth is, I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for the courage and support of each and every one of you. I hope I can be as good a leader as General Hammond has led you to expect and as good a leader as you deserve."

"Here, here!" Daniel said, and applause crashed again.

Jack had to clear his throat.  Now for the fun part, the part he'd had to talk really fast to get Hammond to go along with.  The first test of his judgement how this place should be run.

"The other reason I took this job was so I could do really cool stuff like this," he said.  "It is with great pride that my first order of business as Executive Officer of this base is the announcement of the promotion of Major Samantha Carter to Lieutenant Colonel."

Carter was stunned.  Beside her, Mitchell's face twisted, but he covered, congratulating her with good grace as she was applauded.  Fraiser, Teal'c and Daniel were openly thrilled for her.

"Come on," he said to Carter.  She smiled at him as she walked up the ramp, delighted, grateful, questioning.  Jack had his reasons for this and his reasons were sound.  He thought Mitchell was the right man to lead SG-1, the right fit, but he was also untested and, as his subordinate, Carter couldn't fight him if he was wrong.  Raising Carter's rank put them on the equal footing that would allow her to fight her corner and ensure Mitchell had to listen to her.  Sure, it made Mitchell's job harder.  Jack wanted Mitchell to have to work for it, to work enough to make him think before he acted.  And Carter had worked her ass off for this.  The irony was, if Hammond hadn't believed she was Jack's girl all of this time, he might have promoted her before now.

Harriman took them into the ceremony again while Jack took Carter's oak leaves and replaced them with the silver bird she coveted.  "The President of the United States has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity and abilities of Major Samantha Carter. Major Samantha Carter is promoted to the grade of Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force."

Carter raised her right hand, took her oath, and Jack confirmed her promotion.

The applause redoubled as she made her way back down the ramp and slipped back into place next to Fraiser.

Jack put out his hands, gesturing for quiet.

"It is with equal pride that my second order of business as Executive Officer of this base is the announcement of the promotion of Major Janet Fraiser to Lieutenant Colonel."

This time, cheers hit the silo roof.

Helluva good start.  Helluva day.

The crowd could barely contain itself while Fraiser's promotion was confirmed, and Hammond made no move to break up the party.  He followed Jack down the ramp to shake hands with Carter and Fraiser, saying something too quiet to be overheard to each of them. Then he nodded measured approval to Jack and left the gateroom.

"I didn't get anything," Daniel complained to Jack.

"Nor did I," Teal'c said.

Mitchell knew what he got.

Carter touched his sleeve.  "Thank you, Sir," she said, happy, grateful and quizzical.  "I was not expecting…"

"You earned it.  The team needs it."

She glanced over at Mitchell, who was annoying Teal'c, apparently by breathing, gave a slight, understanding nod.  They were truly a team of equals now.  It was up to her to make something of that, and to help make something of her team leader.

Fraiser raised her eyebrows at Jack.

Jack grinned.  "I don't know what we'd do without you."

He meant every extravagant word, of course.

She didn't believe a word of it.  Of course.

"I can't believe I didn't get anything," Daniel said.  "I never get anything."

"Ah, quit your whining.  Make do with another pair of hands for your department," Jack offered rashly.

"Sarah?  Really?"

"If she wants," Jack said, super casual, regretting it already.  "Might be better for her recovery."  Okay, so, a plus here, maybe if he played it right, he could use it to stop Daniel bringing work home.

Daniel wanted to hug him.  Right there.  Right then.  Daniel really wanted to hug him.  Daniel had to put his hands in his pockets and back off to a safe distance to not hug him.

All this good stuff, and they weren't even really having sex yet

"What of me?" Teal'c asked.

"Check your quarters.  I got you some pineapple."

 

 

Jack got back home almost twenty-four hours after he'd left it.  Brian was excited from the drive, so Jack took him into the yard to run around and play for a while.  Brian chased his ball, a stick, his tail and Jack.  It had been fun to parade him around base, another chapter in his legend, but it wasn't fair on Brian.  He was a dog of small and simple tastes who liked to feel safe and wanted, liked his food, liked to drive with his head out the window.  He liked Jack and he liked Daniel.  He liked this yard.  This house.  His house.

Time to start looking for that dog sitter.

Jack romped, helping Brian tire himself, way more fun than promoting people and keeping the entire base guessing, then said the magic word.  "Hungry?"

They went into the house, Brian racing off to investigate all the boxes stacked in Jack's hallway.  He was on top of the tallest stack, king o' the world, before Jack was up the stairs.  Then Brian bounced back down the stack and went to investigate something that had caught his eye from up there. 

Fish.

A huge, honkin' tank of tropical fish, taking up a lot of hallway and the only power socket Jack could use for vacuuming out his truck.

Brian stretched up to press his nose against the glass, absolutely fascinated, watching the fish like prime time TV.

Maybe Jack could get him to eat them.

There was a clipboard with an inventory.  When Jack looked at it, there was also a note.  Second delivery in the a.m.  Then they'd start on the books.

"Oh, shit."

No way.  He was not remodelling, not for a houseful of Daniel distracters.  It was going to the base.  Tomorrow.  All of it.  They had the storage.  He would redirect the combat engineers.  Daniel could pick out a few, a couple of key pieces.  What he absolutely couldn't live without.

Gloomily acknowledging that probably meant all of it, Jack went into the kitchen to defrost and grill a steak each for himself and Brian. 

"Just us tonight, boy," he said. 

Sarah was awake again, had asked for Daniel before Jack left the mountain.  Jack was okay with that.  Kinda.  In the 'he'd told Daniel he was okay with that so now he had to act like it' sense. 

He wanted Daniel here.  With him.

"I'm a self-centred sonovabitch," he said to Brian.  "Proud of it."

He chopped an onion, sliced mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes, potatoes, tossed in some spices, pushed it all into an oiled pan to fry.

"That smells great," Daniel said, emerging from nowhere to slide his arms around Jack. 

"You didn't knock," Jack said.

"I live here now.  I see my fish live here now.  I live with you.  I feel that knocking at my own door is redundant."

"Smartass."

Daniel kissed the back of Jack's neck, gently enough to make him shiver.

"Thought you'd be staying with Sarah tonight," Jack said.

"I talked to her tonight.  We'll talk again tomorrow."

Not really answering the question.

"I meant to stay," Daniel said, quite happy to stay put, leaning pleasantly into Jack's back, liking holding him.  "I wanted to be there for her.  And…I wanted to be here with you."

"So far, so reasonable."

"Yeah, I was reasonable alright.  I don't know why, nothing consciously triggered the train of the thought, but instead of telling Sarah I would stay with her, I asked if she'd be okay on her own tonight."

What?  Daniel was taking off the hair shirt for this one?  Not what Jack had been expecting, definitely not what Daniel had been expecting, but good.  As good as Daniel talking to him like this.  More than a hint he'd made the right decision returning to the SGC if it was already yielding these dividends.

 

"I watched her face, Jack, and she wasn't shocked or disappointed.  I remembered I hadn't seen her for almost eight years and that I never knew her the way she hoped.  I'm happy, I'm truly glad she's safe.  But when she told me it was really important to her that she could be alone, to think and do what she wanted, when and how she wanted, what I wanted was to come home.  Sarah didn't let me off the hook.  I, I realised I wasn't on it."

"You got perspective, Daniel.  I'm proud."

"I always used to think I had perspective.  Now…I think I should feed the dog.  He's either passed out from malnutrition or he's going for an Emmy, here."

Idly pushing vegetables around the sizzling pan, Jack turned so he could watch as well as listen.  He liked how Daniel was with Brian, liked to see him relaxed and in the moment.  Having fun Jack recognised.  He couldn't be happier Daniel wanted to keep Brian around.

"Sorry, Brian," Daniel said, not sounding it.  Maybe because their malnourished hound was squirming ecstatically under sustained stroking.  "You're on the dog food tonight.  Jack's burning that steak for me."

"Crap!"  Jack abandoned the pan to flip the steaks.  "It's the damn timing that gets me," he grumbled.  "I like the barbecue.  You burn one, maybe a couple of things at a time."

"I'm pretty good in the kitchen."

"You're pretty good most places."

"Offering to cook, not fishing for compliments."

"All under control.  Want to make yourself useful, get the food out of the can and into the dog.  Unless you're the one crying back there."

"Moving as fast as I can."

"Brian doesn't think so."

The dog bowl hit the tile and the dog hit the bowl. 

"I like him," Daniel said, rubbing the industriously bent head.

"I like him too.  Now, let's see if we can bolt this down before he comes after us."

They took their steaks and slightly caramelised sautéed stuff out onto the deck with a couple of sodas, sitting comfortably close on the steps, shoulder to shoulder close, relaxed and easy with each other, eating with plates in their hands.

"Feel like I won one today," Jack said. 

"We've won a few.  We should trust the feeling more."

"I hated being retired."

"I know.  I hated you being retired."

"I know."

"I'm so glad you're back."

"Me too."  It was the better choice for Jack, the right choice.  The only way to keep down all the walls between Daniel and him.  Their relationship was the stronger for it, and he didn't think it was wishful thinking on his part that the two of them were stronger for their relationship.  Even Hammond, who'd hated the very idea, now saw positive change in Jack.  Saw that if Jack wasn't with Daniel, he could never have committed himself to command.  Never made the necessary compromise.  It was only because Jack had Daniel, and he'd had enough of retirement, he could feel this one was a win.

"I may feel differently this time tomorrow," Jack said.  "Because I have a full meetings schedule in a diary I didn't know I had, arranged by an aide I can't find."

"One of those meetings is with me."

"You traitor."

"One of them is with Sam.  One is with me and Sam.  Two are with Mitchell."

"Two?"

"He wants your advice on how to handle Sarah.  And Sam."

"Teal'c doesn't want a meeting?"

"Teal'c is meeting with General Hammond."

Jack snorted.  "About Mitchell."

"You didn't waste your time.  Retiring."

That was kind.  That was Daniel. 

"Ya think?"

"I think we wouldn't have this if you hadn't retired."

"This?"

"Us."

"Us.  That's good, Daniel.  To hear you say it.  We're good.  But…"

"A work in progress.  I know."

"Your run-in with Osiris could as easily been a tragedy as a farce.  It's paying off in all kinds of ways we didn't look for, but, bottom line here, Daniel?  You talk to me.  I talk to you.  We both put in the work on this one."

"That's…fair."

They weren't shooting for perfect.  Fair was more their speed.

The patter of paws told them their dinner was about to have company.  Brian's nose worked between Jack and Daniel, followed by the rest of him.  To his dismay, he was only in time to do the dishes. 

"Want to go to bed?" Jack asked.

"Yes.  Yes, I would," Daniel said. 

"Think you can stay awake?"

"Before, during or after?"

Foreplay?  Hah.  "Take care of the dishes while I grab Brian's stuff out of the truck, rendezvous in bed in five?"

It wasn't five.  Of course it wasn't.  The dishes were in the kitchen but Daniel was in the hallway, stroking Brian and looking over his inventory.

Jack decided if he wanted to get any action, other than unpacking boxes, he should not bring up the fact the stuff wasn't staying.  He got Brian settled in a spot near the guestroom door, away from the boxes and the fish and the basement stairs.  Then he went back for Daniel.  He didn't toss the inventory.  Nothing so crude.  He got Daniel to drop it.  This required nothing more combative than a helping hand in Daniel's jeans.

In like a lion, out like a lamb.

They covered the short distance to the bedroom rather quickly, undressed with more haste than dignity, fell onto the bed and into each other, Daniel's mouth luscious and hot and greedy; slim, strong body melting under Jack.  Daniel astounded by Jack, the weight and the heat and the fit and the feel of him.  Daniel spread and hungry, his skin flushed and his eyes dazed.  Daniel rocking, rubbing, panting, moaning, the slick, rigid heat of his cock riding Jack's throbbing cock, sensitive fingers biting Jack's ass.  Daniel arching, coming, crying out for Jack.  Jack shivering, shaken, pounding, molten, seizing in a shattering spasm of pleasure, pulsing, spurting.  Electric.

They collapsed, heaving, wrung out and stunned.

All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. 

Still.  It needed to be said.  

"Sonova…goddamn…bitch."

They'd hit this one out of the ballpark. 

Apparently only able to move his lips, Daniel kissed Jack's right eye in complete love and gratitude.  Jack kissed Daniel's collarbone.  Backatcha.

That about covered it.

Jack did manage to chalk up one more in the win column. 

He was asleep before Daniel.

**FINIS**


End file.
